Heart on my Sleeve
by plink
Summary: Slight language. Over breakfast, Mimi and Shobu dicuss food, KaiJudo, and moping Kokujos...worse still, Toru decides to make waves for everyone! He's dead when his sister finds him :3 Hitomi's motives are revealed...? updateness
1. Toru speaks his mind

Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve

_Wow, for the first time in probably close to a month, I've booted up Word, sat down and wrote something. Very odd. But maybe this is a good thing, considering. So, why am I writing about something I know so little about? I don't know. You tell me. I've only seen a total of four episodes and have one comic (the aus version, meaning two) and well…kyaaaaa…! Forgive me if they're out of character XD_

_It's entirely up to you, folks. Kyoshiro Kokujo finds himself in a delicate situation involving the matters of the heart and we all know it's going to end in tears. Probably someone else's I might add. A dare by the illustrious Toru goes awry, and even Hakuoh feels the burn of the mistake. So what will happen is up to you, reader, when the time comes. _

_Just be gentle._

Chapter One: Toru speaks his mind

It was day. It had to be day, because if it were night, no one would be able to sleep and the amount of electricity used by the streetlights would be wasted. It was break time – for two weeks the schools were closed. The children roamed the streets and arcades and made local shop owners want to tear their hair out with frustration at the casual shoplifting and loitering that now rated as number one and two pastimes.

Picture a street.

No, too common. Picture a park. An actual park, not a grassy cause way; there was trees and play equipment that was currently standing still in the midday heat. The air shimmered, but at least the shade was cool. The shade where everyone's favourite duellist was currently dozing along with his ragtag group of friends. Shobu Kirifuda snored quietly as his friends Toru (no last name supplied, probably due to witness protection) and Rakuda (annoying best friend who doesn't deserve a last name) leafed through his deck of beloved playing cards, pointing out the ones they liked and the ones they didn't.

"…Hey, he got another Bolshack."

"He did? Damn. It'll take me awhile to find something to combat more of those bastards." Toru picked his nose industriously as he examined the offending card, frowned, and ate his findings. "It's hard enough knowing he's Kaijudo master, but he has this weird ability to find the best cards."

"Apparently it's all part and parcel of the job." Rakuda replied, gathering them all up again. "Other than the fact he's the main character, and if he didn't, then he wouldn't be the strongest."

"I still say it sucks." Toru sighed mournfully, and lay back against the grass and ignoring the sensation of ants crawling along his flesh. "It's so hot!"

"Swimming weather." Came the absentminded reply. There was a short silence as both boys contemplated this, the cool water, the hot sun, and a pair of girls in bikinis.

Coughing to clear his throat, Toru looked at the sky. "Yes. Swimming." His mind had been wandering lately. Girls seemed more important then cards, and this was worrying. Especially how he kept noticing that Mimi-

A shadow fell over them, just for a moment, and the air actually felt colder. Shivering with the chill, both boys looked up, in time to see the dark shape of Kyoshiro Kokujo slip past. They did a double take – he was without his black trench coat. In fact, he was dressed in what could be considered normal, and was taking a shortcut across the park to…well, possibly anywhere. Streets are never mentioned, are they?

Maybe it was the heat.

Maybe it was the thought of girls.

Maybe Toru's just a prat.

"Hey."

No reply. The master of disaster kept walking.

Looking for something to throw, Toru found a stone and casually threw it at the blue haired duellist. It wasn't really thrown with care, which was why it fell short. The next one hit the target very nicely.

Perhaps a little too nicely.

Kokujo span around and sighted them, glared, and stormed over. Right about now Toru sincerely wished he hadn't been so forthcoming, but what the hell, he was out of the frypan now, might as well enjoy the fire. He grinned stupidly at the older boy and gave him a little wave. "Hey."

"What the hell was that for?"

"'Cos you didn't hear me."

"I heard you fine, I just didn't care!"

Toru smirked. "Yeah, _sure_. You came across here because you know that everyone visits the park. You wanted to _see_ us."

Even Rakuda took a glance at the spindly green haired youth. Kokujo pinched the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes and counted to three. "Did it ever occur to you, _moron_, that everyone does indeed use this park?" He waved at the horizon and his voice went syrupy sweet, as talking to a small child. "Look over there. Do you know what they call that? A post office. See this?" He waved a bright yellow card in front of Toru. "This is a parcel warning. It has my name on it. Yes, I'm going to pick it up. Someone cares enough to send me something. Obviously you wouldn't know about this, you second rate, unloved hack."

Toru jumped to his feet and glared. "Hack?! How dare you insult my duelling skills, I oughta-"

"Shut the hell up? I wish."

"Hey!" Managing to muster up what little courage he had, Rakuda jumped between them, then immediately wished he hadn't. He'd forgotten how tall both of the other boys were.

Coo.

"I challenge you to another duel, Lone Wolf!"

"Good, 'cos I got another brewing right here-"

"I didn't need to know that-" Rakuda muttered.

There was what could quite possibly be described as the quack of a duck. Only it was longer and much, much wetter. A stink rose in the heat, a stink so foul all three faces went slightly green.

"Holy _shit_, Kokujo, you weren't kidding." Toru moaned, backing away.

But the dark haired boy was also staggering back. "That wasn't me. I swear."

Rakuda promptly fainted.

Shobu turned over in his sleep, let a little more escape, and yawned. Then he opened his eyes and gave everyone a manic grin, completely undisturbed by what he had just done. "Hey, what's hangin'?"

"My lunch if I don't get out of here." Kokujo rapidly made an exit and stalked across the green.

"Weird one, him." Shobu blinked. "Toru, where's my deck?"

oOo

Particularly incensed by what had been said over their last meeting, Toru kept glancing over his shoulder, not trusting special effects nor long introductions so tied to bad guys. When Kokujo came back on the return trip, he was going to get him for that hack remark, let alone the whole unloved part. Shobu then let out a whoop, and the other duellist realised he'd lost the game. With a snort, Toru lay down the rest of his cards and folded his arms in disgust.

"Wolfie will be back soon." The smaller boy said cheerfully, not at all worried about his friend's lack of interest in the duel. "Then maybe he can help lug Rakuda back home. I probably shouldn't have had that extra cabbage at lunch eh?"

Toru grinned. "I don't know. It got rid of ole' dark and nasty pretty quick."

"We should probably write a book or something on how to get rid of him you know. Not permanently, but I know he upsets the other kids."

"He upsets everyone." Toru sighed. "So…we can say he's allergic to cabbage?"

Shobu laughed. "Yep! And the colour pink!"

"Puppies!"

"Hairdressers!"

"Fast food!"

"Anchovies!"

"Girls!"

"Ribbons!" Shobu laughed. Then he stopped. "What?"

"What, what?"

"No, I said what. What?"

Now Toru was mystified. "What?"

Shobu shook his head, confused, then jumped right in. "You said girls. Wolfie doesn't like girls?" He scratched his head, perplexed. "I know they have cooties and all, but Sayuki and Mimi are cool."

"No, I mean he doesn't like girl-girls. Going out with them."

"You mean dating?"

"Yeah."

Shobu's eyes widened. "Where'd you hear this?"

Toru suddenly found himself in uncomfortable territory. Unlike Rakuda, Shobu was still very innocent in the ways of life, and was still concerned with his deck more than the pretty faces of girls. Toru had come to terms with the way a heart could thump maddeningly as a girl went past, and her sweet perfume hung in the air for just a moment. The way the skirt could rise and show a bit more leg than usual. The hypnotising way her…chest…moved. How it could make a boy blush and stammer as they looked in their direction…and then walked away. Rakuda had recently found this out himself, and their talks were long and satisfying – the female of the species was a weird and wonderful beast. But ultimately scary. Mimi and Sayuki were bad enough, at least the boys could talk to them without feeling like complete idiots. But the others at the school…well…

"I mean, I don't want to date yet. Just 'cos Kokujo's a couple of years older than us doesn't mean he'd be any different."

"You don't know hormones." Toru muttered and searched his mind for an answer. "Look…you remember Hakuoh?"

"That guy with the long hair that duelled me–I mean that cooking guy? The one that was really creepy?" Shobu asked.

"That'd be him." Toru looked at the ground. "I dunno. There was a rumour that Kokujo came to the temple once or twice for intensive training and stuff. I know he's not there now…it's just…"

"What, a no girls policy?"

"No. Like…" How to explain the rather grossing fact of a guy…kissing another guy? "…Hakuoh asked him to come and see him…and he was like…there…the entire night."

Shrugging, the smaller boy picked a blade of grass and looked at it. "So he slept over. So what? Maybe they were playing videogames or something."

"Hnh. I don't know."

"Well, he does kinda look like a girl." Ahh, Shobu's wisdom. "But why'd he wanna kiss a guy?"

"I don't know. It's gross, huh?"

"Yeah. I don't want to kiss anybody." Shobu snorted. "But I wanna clear this up. If we see him, which I think we will 'cos of poetic narrative and act of plot an' stuff, we'll ask him."

Toru stared, floored by Shobu's openness, but also the act of plot comment. "What?"

"Come on, Rakuda will be fine. I have his wallet."

Ah. Firmer ground. "Is that because you're broke?"

"Kinda."

Toru allowed himself to be pulled along, and to his surprise they did indeed find Kokujo, near the shaded entrance to the other side of the park and sitting all alone on a park bench while staring at the box in his hands. For a moment at least, Toru saw something he didn't want to see in someone's eyes. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was the most emotion he'd ever seen in the feared duellist's face that wasn't anger, hatred, annoyance or…well, more anger. Stumbling to keep up, he bumped into Shobu's back and found himself looking into the rather stressed face of Kokujo.

"What…what the hell do you two want?" He snapped, pulling himself together. In his lap were the remains of the parcel's wrapping, but the box itself was unopened. If anything, he looked like he was scared of it.

"We have to ask you a question."

"Look, go play with yourselves, will you? Leave me alone."

"No-o this is kinda important." Shobu folded his arms. "Toru and I were talking and we were both curious, do you like girls?"

The question stunned the two older boys. Toru twitched, realising that Shobu had never heard about the word tact, and would probably ask how you cooked it. Kokujo's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Girls. You know, with boobs and stuff." Shobu tried to think things over. "And dresses. Ooh, and panties. Right Toru?"

Suddenly it clicked in Kokujo's mind. Toru could see it in his eyes. Deciding to jump whole-heartedly into the grave, Toru butted in. "There was a rumour going around the temple you were sleeping with Hakuoh." Ignoring Shobu's questioning glance, he continued on. "Do you like girls?"

If it had been any other day, Kokujo would have sent them both packing. But this day was not a good one for him, and spluttering for breath gave the fuel for Toru's confidence. He smirked behind Shobu's back, suddenly filled with ammunition.

Kokujo saw this too.

"I do so like girls. Where the hell did you hear that Hakuoh thing from?"

"Nobody important." Toru smirked. "You like girls eh?"

"Yeah."

"Name one girlfriend you've had."

"Uh…"

"Hey, Toru, this is boring, let''s go poke Rakuda-"

"Shut up, Shobu. This is important." Toru took a breath. "I know a lot of people who'd think differently about all this."

"You blackmailing me you little creep?"

"If you like girls, then prove it." Toru purred. "Meet me here tomorrow, just after 3pm…and dress nicely."

to be continued.

_Good god that was random. This is easier than I thought…does this mean the drought is over for my story skills? Mmmm…shonenai…XD So, do I continue and stuff? What? Yeah? I haven't seen very much, so…pyo. Kokujo…is that his first name or his second? Oh, and, um, yeah? Let's see what happens next…_


	2. Hot girl in a comic shop

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

_Yaaaaay__!!! Another chapter! I wanted to write some more of chapter three before I posted, so it will probably be a week and half maybe two weeks before another chappie goes up waves_

**_Rays number gurl_**_ – Thank you for your kind words nn I will indeed read your story when it is posted XD_

**_Deathliger_**_ -__ giggles Ooooh, I can't tell you how things are going to turn out! There will be shonen-ai in this, but nothing to upset you too much – Kyou's trying to save his reputation, remember?_

**_Taitofan_**_: Wait and see is my eternal mantra. But I think you will be happy in some ways…and annoyed in others XD_

**_BlueMarina_**_: -bows- Thank you very much!_

_-gives out cookies to everyone, blushing-_

_And, uh, by the way, the girl Mary in this chapter was inspired completely by the BeyBlades section. Redhaired-green-eyed girls seem to pop up everywhere as love interests…or other things XD_

**Chapter Two**: Hot girl in a comic shop

Kokujo turned up at least half an hour early. It wasn't the look of the thing that bothered him, no matter where he went he looked the most badass. It was the fact he had to see what he was getting in to. Oh, that and the fact some stupid little prick had asked his father along to keep an eye out for Kokujo's domineering presence.

He was going to have to endure a Talk this evening.

Gut in knots, he sat and waited in the heat, clad in a pair of loose jeans and a dark shirt, knowing that as each second ticked away his hair was getting frizzier by the minute. He already got in trouble for using as much conditioner as he had to every time he showered; this was only going to make it worse!

Sitting back he stared listlessly at the blue dome of the sky and felt his ears twitch as the 'gang' appeared, and didn't move until they were all standing in front of them. He feigned sleep, wanting to make them all loose their cool, but when Mimi decided to kick him in the shins he lost all hope of impressing.

"OW!"

"Hi Kokujo!"

"Hi yourself you crazy woman." He scowled. "Well? I've kept my end of the bargain. Will you stop annoying me now?"

"Hey Kokujo, there wouldn't be a story if we just left you like this." Shobu grinned.

Toru then pushed in front. "Well, seeing as we have tons of witnesses, here's the challenge…get a girl to like you in…uhh, how many weeks Mimi?"

"Try making it three. At the end of the third week, you have to get a kiss from her, and we have to see it!"

"Three weeks? What is this, _preschool_?"

Saiyuki put her hands on her hips. "I'm totally against this myself, but they're right. Three weeks should be enough. Like or not Kokujo, you're hot. Everyone knows it."

Leering evilly the bishonen leant forward. "Then let's snog right here and now, Miss PrissyPants. I have nothing to prove and you lot are really getting on my nerves."

"You're so _gross_."

"I work at it."

"Nooooo." Toru replied. "It's not going to be that easy…we need it to be a complete stranger. Otherwise where would the fun be? Oh, man, this is going to be soooo good…"

Unheard in the back, Rakuda piped up; "Mary-Sue what?"

"The place we need to go is NetherRealm."

Everyone stared at Toru except for Rakuda. He was too short and too informed.

"What?"

"Is that some kind of bar?"

"Hey, do we have to duel to get in?"

"It sounds dirty!"

"No, no, no…" Waving his hands to get their attention, Rakuda straightened his massive glasses. "It's a comic shop. You know, Spiderman, Superman, the Incredible Hulk-"

"Oh, a place for losers and try-hards?" Saiyuki asked.

"Yeah. I mean no! Look, it seemed like the most likely place to find someone that might actually click with tall dark and evil over there." Rakuda burbled.

Kokujo gave Rakuda the one finger salute. "Screw you peewee."

Toru rubbed his hands together. "Well, shall we get started? It's two blocks over from here, we'll go in, select our target and leave you two to get to know each other."

"Oh." Grumped Kokujo, sincerely wishing he'd never gotten out of bed. "Just my luck."

oOo

NetherRealm was probably one of the last comic shops in the town to not be part of a larger corporation. Small but well stocked it was nestled in a side street and was currently populated by a couple of wannabe Goths checking out the latest issue of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, a girl dressed in a sailor uniform arguing the benefits of the power of the moon against a well aimed Kamayaya blast, and a couple of pimply faced fanboys staring in awe at the latest Shirow art book.

"Wooowwww…" Shobu breathed. "Look at all the freaks."

It might be best to add that everyone took at least one step away from him.

"This place is pretty good!" Mimi chirped happily. "Wow…they even stock some of the really hard to find stuff…!"

"I didn't know you liked manga…"

"It's okay. A better read than superhero stuff because it's more believable." She then paused, looking at the latest Yugi-Oh graphic novel. "Well, almost believable."

"Hnh. A story about a card game. That's original."

"Rakuda! Mimi! Concentrate!" Toru spat. "We're looking for some unlucky person to hook up with Kokujo! Not some stupid comic about a stupid card game…"

The group quietened, or at least tried to quieten, Shobu was too interested in looking at the action figures on display. There weren't that many girls in the comic shop at all, apart from the two at the desk and the one dressed all in black who sauntered away from her companions scowling miserably at nothing in particular.

Watch her now. She was dressed all in black, her dark red hair soft and sleek and oh-so-shiny. Her eyes are green, her complexion pale and somewhat smooth; kind of like milk as one would say, but not going yellow in the sun and smelling bad. You kind of got the feeling she'd never seen the sun. Under that long jacket she wears, even in this heat, is a cute little pleated skirt, a black sleeveless turtleneck and a mesh top over it all. Oooh, and fingerless gloves,, can't forget those. As she moved, she swung her hips just so, and all of them could see the duelling deck in the pouch attached to her studded belt.

She carried the air of angst, pain, and secrets. She was probably a brilliant duellist who hadn't found her feet yet, used a Darkness deck and was on the run from the temple because of her talent or her abuse at the hands of someone. She was probably looking for someone really strong and handsome to be her hero…

Toru smirked.

As he raised his hand however, the girl, Mary S. Parfait, actually tripped on her overly large but very cool boots and landed flat on her face. She went down, Toru grabbed Kokujo and pointed, and the dark duellist could only stare.

"What?"

"Uh…_crap_."

The girl in question was not pretty. She was quite plain, and had just stood up from the box she was unpacking, concentrating fiercely on the DVDs she was stacking up to price and put on the shelves. Kokujo stared, and then looked back at Toru who was looking around frantically for Mary. S., but shrugging he strolled over and looked closer.

Mistaking his interest and thinking it was the stock, she smiled at him and then patted them. "Be right with you. I just need to get the rest of the stock out."

"Uh…fine?" He expected to be tongue tied or something. Kokujo was instantly suspicious, no insults had been thrown, no dark glowering looks and certainly no nastiness. Certainly not someone who spoke like they came from a posh background and knew how to use grammar, one of those private schools or something. Someone innocent to corrupt.

Score.

Grunting with the effort, the girl lifted up the final lot of casings and stared at it for a moment, muttering under her breath and then making notes on the notepad beside her. Again, noticing his attention to her, she looked up.

"Our supplier was behind in their orders, so I now have to call all these people to tell them their DVDs are in…I dislike this part of the job intently… Oh, hi Mary." The Goth girl was back and rudely pushing Kokujo aside, she slammed down a couple of graphic novels and scowled at the check out chick.

"Hi yourself, square."

Kokujo snorted.

"What's your problem dickhead?"

"Now, now Mary. I hope you remembered your medication today. I don't want to have to ask the gentlemen in the adult section to take you outside again."

Mary did as she was told, rolling her eyes. Then, noticing Kokujo's sudden flaring of cuteness she smiled at him. "Duellist?"

The story teetered for a minute. Hakuoh, deep in some distant and dark place opened an eye and snarled at nothing, the checkout chick's eyes glazed over and time slowed down.

Then common sense prevailed.

_Crap. This Mary is coming on to me. I know Toru said anyone but he pointed out this girl instead and if I flake out on this little bet I am screwed. Hakuoh will kill me…it's bad enough we're underage, I don't want my dad yelling at me again._

"Uhh, sometimes."

"We should duel some time. You're hot."

The register dinged, money was exchanged and Mary left, making absolutely sure Kokujo was checking her out. "I'm terribly sorry about that. Mary has a habit of grating on everyone's nerves. I'm sure it's her Bi-Polar disorder…it has gotten her into such trouble in the past…" The girl smiled. "My name is Rakka. How can I help you?"

"Uh…actually…um…" Ohh, juuussst great. Now he looses his ability to speak.

"Look, while you sort your words out, I'm just going to start labelling these. If you can't remember what title you're looking for (and believe me, it happens more often than not) take a look through the shelves to jog your memory. Then come back, okay?"

"Umm, sure." Kokujo backed off. He turned around, watching the others who had somehow coerced the nerds into duelling with them, and scowling, he turned back. "Rakka is it?"

"Mmm?"

"I need your help."

"Well, of course. That's why I work here."

"No, no, no. I don't mean comic help." Kokujo ran a hand through his long hair. "Look, it's like this. Those people over there have been questioning parts of my behaviour, and I want to prove them wrong, y'know? So I have to meet a chick, get her to like me and stuff and kiss her."

There was a moment of silence on both their parts.

"I'm sorry?"

"I can pay you. Seriously."

Rakka's eyes narrowed. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"What? Is that so wrong? I don't have my own cash?"

"No, that you just asked if you could pay me to go out with you." Her eyebrow twitched. "Just who the ruddy hell do you think I am?"

Kokujo glared at her. "I believe you're called Rakka, and I, Kyoushiro Kokujo am offering you a chance to stand in the limelight for a few days as my girl-"

"Your _bitch_ you mean. I know your type. Go take a long walk of a short pier you creep."

"What?!" He was on familiar ground here. The arguments, petty as they were, the anger of the other species and so forth…

"Your lot are always swanning around, making passes at girls to have them hang of your arm for a few days and then you dump them and leave them heartbroken and probably in a tiff with their friends."

Well he had one foot in it. He might as well try and fit the other foot in his mouth as well. "You have friends?"

Rakka's light brown eyes flared menacingly and the pencil she was holding snapped clean in two. Opening her mouth to give him a rebuttal, she fell silent when the older girl came over. She was quite tall and for once in his life Kokujo was worried. The tattoo on her wrist helped with the tough girl image, regardless of studded leather bands, the earring of bones and the Happy Tree Friends T-shirt, complete with beheaded rabbit.

"Problem? Does someone need a lifelong ban?"

"No. The…gentleman…and I were discussing the finer points of Love Hina and the reasons as to why the outcome was what it was."

Kokujo only stared numbly at Rakka and decided not to push it. She was actually covering for him which was a big surprise. But he didn't know what a Love Hina was, nor what the outcome had been. So, rallying magnificently to the challenge, he straightened, looked Rakka in the eye and said:

"You're absolutely right. I'm going to go back, review those final eps and see if there was a reason why…"

"Naru?"

"Yes, Naru…did what she did." He paused again, fully aware that eyes were on him. "Uhh…it wasn't the artist's best work anyway."

"Oh, you preferred A.I Love you? Or is Negima more your style?"

"The second one."

"A man who knows what he likes." The woman smiled at him then went back to the other side of the counter to where Mimi was standing looking flustered with a copy of Naruto in her hands.

"…Chitose doesn't like it when people give us trouble." Rakka said very softly. "…I apologise for my behaviour…but you must understand a girl is not just for a few days you know."

The duellist stared at her, fascinated. "You're telling me. She's intense. I…Look, I'm-"

"Please leave. You'd best work on your interpersonal relations before trying to go out with someone…that attitude of yours will only get you a slap."

"Hnh. Speak for yourself." Kokujo went to leave, but then turned back and hated himself for asking. "What the hell is a Love Hina?"

"Buy it and see."

"No. Ever heard of try before you buy?" If that wasn't a double meaning he didn't know what was.

"Not in this shop."

"Hnh." Stalking away Kokujo gave a passing glance over his shoulder at Rakka then left, ignoring the whoops as Shobu amazingly had his arse kicked in Duel Masters by a slender youth with glasses like fish tanks. As the arguments broke out, Kokujo wondered if he would be able to make things happen before Toru started the rumours. He didn't care about what would happen to him, but if Hakuoh's reputation was sullied then there would be trouble…would he have better luck with that Mary girl? She seemed a bit of all right, regardless of the fuzzy thinking.

Then he remembered Rakka's face after the no friends comment.

He was evil.

He was just plain bad.

And Kyoushiro Kokujo, for the first time in his life, felt guilty.

to be continued.

_Duh-duh-duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh…dramatic reverb You're such an idiot Kyou .o There's no need to feel GUILTY ya big idiot…_

_The name of this chapter was actually the name of a very funny song done by a group called Tripod O.o so basically, the entire chapter fed off it…-sniggers- Uh, yeah, I'll update sometime soon...I hope..._


	3. Picking up where we left off

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

_OMG seriousness and shonen-ai alert! It had to happen. Nothing too nasssty, but the love triangle has to be developed, and seeing as there is nothing but fluff, as normal, I have veered off track and sailed merrily over the edge. This is Plink's way. So prepared to be disturbed by Hakuoh's kinky obsession with hair, Kokujo's nickname and the man that fathered the master of disaster himself…w00t!_

_Red Butterfly – Thank you for the kind words. I hope I can keep this up…when on earth does Kokujo return to the screen? The last episode I saw was of Shobu's final battle with Kintaro for the passage into the temple…screams I love the show, but Kokujo is what makes it for me . And I don't know how much longer I can wait! chuckles I have no idea if I've got him in character or not…_

_Rays Number Gurl –Hehe, I have no requests . Just my own naughty mind! Rakka has a few problems of her own, as we will in time find out. I am very glad I am entertaining you so far nn_

_Taitofan – Well, I hope you enjoy this part! Kokujo is very silly in my mind. He has two faces, his outside one and the private inner one that few people get to see…_

_Jamestutz - waves Hi! Thank you for the compliment! As for Shobu and Mimi…well, this is a story 'bout Kokujo. A date with Mimi and Shobu might end up in some very odd shenanigans…XD people forgetting what they're doing, a mad duel with some poor innocent person and plenty of icecream…!_

_bows to everyone Thank you for the wonderful comments so far. I hope you continue to enjoy what I have to share with you all…chocolate anyone?_

**Chapter Three**: Picking up where we left off.

It was not a dream. It was a memory, and it was one that was not treasured.

It featured a child, and a playground. There was fun, yes, and a figure coming towards him as he played on the swings and with the other children. Ice cream was involved, his father going and getting it, leaving him out of sight for a second-

A woman had come then.

She had stared at him, made him feel uncomfortable, and then she had reached out and touched his face. Then she smiled and there was pain. And screaming.

His screaming.

"Oi."

Well _damn_. That ruined the mood. "Sorry, what?"

"Kokujo, is something the matter here?"

Awakening from his flashback of rather dire proportions, Kokujo stretched and stared at the body lying next to him. Looking decidedly annoyed, Hakuoh folded his arms behind his head and pouted, fixing Kokujo with a harsh but somehow endearing glare. He'd gone straight to the temple after the disastrous first attempt at dating, and Hakuoh had been more than happy to help him forget; the smaller boy had been _extremely_ happy and that meant only one thing; he'd argued with Master again.

In Kokujo's opinion, Hakuoh got off on the slightest whiff of violence.

Creep.

"Nothing's the matter. Just life and stuff."

"Life bogs you down too much." Stretching sinuously like a cat, the other youth examined his fingernails in a show of indifference. "I know what will cheer you up…"

"Noooo, not right now."

"Tired already? You're slipping in standards. But that's not what I meant." There was a sigh, and Kokujo shivered, feeling that delicate hand that could cause so much pain run up and down his back. "There are a couple of newb's down in the temple I want eradicated. You know how much I dislike the chirpy sweet kind."

"Urgh."

"Yes indeed." There was the hiss of fabric as Hakuoh rolled over onto his belly to examine Kokujo's back, examining the pale skin. "You're so tense…those little pests giving you trouble again?"

"…To the left. You have _no_ idea."

"Oooh, I spy back hair." Hakuoh nipped Kokujo's ear. "Well, you weren't kidding when you told me how annoying they are. Shobu tried to get in again today…To be completely honest I don't know if it's because of me or the buffet."

"Kirifuda is ruled by his stomach and his deck. If either of them grabs his attention he'll jump right in and not bother to look at the consequences…"

"Hnh…"

Silence fell between them again. It was an odd silence, not one that Kokujo was comfortable with; but as it wore on he realised he wasn't the only one slipping in stamina. Hakuoh's breathing became steadier and deeper, the motions stopping until a hand just lay against his back. There was a snort beside him and Kokujo looked down on the now calm face nestled against his shoulder, almost childlike, the soft hair framing his face with an air of delicacy that he could only describe as inhuman. And while Hakuoh dozed and looked hopelessly…_sickeningly_…cute beside him, Kokujo pondered his position and how he would get out of it.

It wasn't that Hakuoh was jealous of others attentions. No, he encouraged it. Nothing filled Hakuoh more with glee then watching Kokujo actively flirt with other people…why however, the older boy was unsure, because contrary to popular belief, he was actually an incredibly loyal person. Why Hakuoh always wanted to test him was beyond him…but then, thinking about his background it was quite possibly a power thing. Kokujo understood about that a lot.

Speaking of power-

As if on cue his mobile rang. Body filling with adrenaline, Kokujo slipped out of Hakuoh's grip and fished around in the pockets of his discarded jeans to find the cheap bit of plastic that costed a bomb to keep running. Hissing under his breath and wondering if Hakuoh was awake or not, he answered.

"…Yeah?"

"Kyou, finally…"

Relief. It covered him like a thick rug, and smiling in the half light he sat down on the edge of Hakuoh's bed and cocked the mobile to his ear. The deep tones were soothing to him, the one rock he could hold on to right now. "Hey, dad."

"Just checking up to see if you're okay. I know you hate that, but I'm your father, I have a right to know, it's the summer holidays and the freaks are out of the houses and on the streets."

Kokujo grinned. "Freaks like us?"

"Meh, perhaps." There was an intake of breath. "Kyou, we need to talk."

"What, now?" There was momentary panic followed by guilt, but all was gone in a moment as he rallied himself. "I…I'm kinda not in a good place to talk…"

"No, of course not now. Do you have _any_ idea how much it costs to keep that bloody mobile going?" There was a pause. "Uh, where are you? I can hear chanting…" Another pause. "Oh _god_, you're in with a cult…"

"_No_, dad." Kokujo pulled a knee up to his chin, examining his toes with the general air of relaxation. "I am at a friend's place, and we've been duelling all afternoon. You can hear his little sister downstairs watching some sort of movie…probably one of those action flicks."

"Ah. Righto." The smile on the other end of the line was brittle. Something was wrong, and a sick feeling spread inside the youth. "Look, Shuichi's dad was over just now, talking about your behaviour down by the river…Kyou, please, I know I go on, but I worry. Must you keep lording over the little shits like that?"

"If I didn't, they'd never be prepared for real life. Shuichi is a crybaby and I didn't touch him. You know I don't bash people up for no reason, and certainly not at that age."

"Kyou, I believe you. But your reputation precedes you wherever you go. They don't see what kind of person you are at home, so they don't know you." A sigh. "Come home tonight, will ya? Apart from needing a good old father-son chat, I worry."

Kokujo looked down at the lounging youth beside him, and reached out to brush a lock of light hair from the sleeping face with an uncharacteristic gentleness that would make his admirers swoon.

"Kyou?"

"…Sorry, I was…I was looking at his cards. When he gets back, I'll tell him, okay?"

"Good." There was an intake of breath and for a moment, Kokujo could have sworn he heard a sob. "'Cos your mother called. She wants you back."

The phone fell.

oOo

It was raining by the time Kokujo got home, the humidity having finally built up to a nice healthy storm and he was upset at the news, the wet and the rage inflicted on him by Hakuoh. The other boy had been extremely angry that his lover was not staying the night for more fun and games, but how could Kokujo tell him about the problems in his life? Hakuoh, regardless of his proclamations of love, had little regard for anyone else bar his own skin, and family problems were not very high on his priority list.

Keitaro Kokujo was sitting at the kitchen table, watching him as he came in, a mug of coffee in his hands and bags under his eyes. Never before had Kokujo seen his parent so miserable, not even when he lost his job ten years ago. It had been a massively low point for both of them but they had gotten out of it fairly quickly. Now Keitaro worked as a baker, and was surprisingly good at it.

It was easy to see that they were related. Kokujo had inherited much of his looks and attitude from his father and the two had been together from the hour after Kokujo had been delivered at three in the morning. He didn't know the whole story, but his father had been called and then given the basinet and a stern talking to by one of the nurses before the woman who had actually mothered him disappeared from his life.

Keitaro was tall, his dark hair cropped close to his skull and just falling over his ears. He dressed scruffily, having just escaped the kitchens, his body relaxed and in control. He could be mean and cruel, but nothing could come between him and his son.

Except now.

The box from the day before sat on the table. Never before had anything looked so menacing.

"Hey, Kyou. You're soaking…"

"Yeah, it's raining. Duh."

"D'you wanna shower before dinner or something?"

"Probably…" Among other reasons. He'd taken the long way round to try and rid himself of the smell of sex, and provided he could get to the shower in time, his father wouldn't know. Nodding, he quickly ran upstairs and did what he needed to do.

By the time he came down, damp but clean, the cold feeling in his belly had become a feeling of nausea. Dinner was already ready, and the smells awakened the dormant hunger he'd earned during his exercise earlier that evening regardless of how bad he felt. As Keitaro continued to stir their meal, Kokujo set the table, and sitting down, he smoothed back his hair and watched as his father set the bowl of pasta down and gave them a bowl each. They ate in silence, and when Kokujo could not longer stand it, he looked his father straight in the eye.

"Talk to me."

Maybe another father would have skirted around the point, but Keitaro hadn't raised his son in that way. "I found the box. Why didn't you tell me she was contacting you?"

Silence. Kokujo swallowed an overly large mouthful and then looked at his plate. "This is probably the first time since…since the park." His fork trembled. "I got it yesterday…You were…y'know, the job and shit."

"Hey, no swearing at the table."

"Sorry. Look, I know you need your mind clear when you're doing the really big things, and a wedding is about as big as they come. I didn't want to tell you. How did it go by the way?"

"Don't change the subject." Keitaro's face softened and he cocked his head to the side. "Buuuuuuut…It went pretty well. The only hitch was that the dogs at the wedding got to the cake before the guests did…but everyone had a good laugh, and I think we may have some new commissions from it. But that," Keitaro gestured with his fork. "Is behind the point. How did she get our address?"

"I don't know. Dad…there's a uniform in there."

"I know. Birishima Finishing College."

"I don't want to go."

"You're not going to. She can't just storm in here and take you away from me like that." Keitaro sat back. "We moved here to get away from her."

"I…" Kokujo didn't want to admit it. His mother was the only thing he feared.

"Kyou. It's okay. Everything is going to be fine. She called today, left a message. And when I got back from work, she managed to contact me again…she was talking to my boss. It's crazy, and thank god I've been working there for as long as I have…"

"…She's spreading dirt about you?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"Dad, no swearing at the table."

"Hnh." Going for seconds Keitaro, probed the thought further. "Welfare. Has to be welfare."

"Welfare?" Kokujo asked. "We don't do welfare."

"I know. But when you were just born I had to. I was a school kid, Kyou."

"Don't remind me. I don't need the guilts."

"Hey, I picked up chicks with your help." Keitaro grabbed his son's bowl and went to fill it. "See, the thing was that the children services were all up in arms over you because of what happened. I mean, your mam just upped and left, and well…" He shrugged. "You were given to me, because I was family. No court battles, no signing, I won you be default."

"That does not help the old self esteem, dad."

"Kyou, you know I love you."

"That sounds so wrong."

"Yeah. I take it back. You're my son, let's leave it at that. But if your mother does want you back, I don't know how I can fight – you're still in that sticky age bracket that allows them to take you away. You're not considered an adult yet regardless of you being…you." Keitaro prodded the mixture with his spoon. "So she's coming back into town, apparently meeting up with some old friends…and wants to check up on us."

"We're not here at her beck and call, dad."

"I know. But…I want you to be on your best behaviour. If either of us step out of line, she'll pull all the tricks in the books to lay me low and take you back."

"But she has no right!"

Keitaro's eyes were cold. "In a world where a woman can claim compensation against a man she hasn't met for a child that isn't his, is a world where a mother can come back and claim her son from his father. I'm screwed, and it's up to her to see where I go. I have no papers linking you to me apart from your birth certificate. There wasn't time and there wasn't funds, Kyoushiro." He sighed. "And she's probably going to do all she can to get you back."

to be continued.

_In actual fact, that story is true. One man was besieged with angry letters demanding compensation for a woman he'd never met and a child he hadn't fathered by the government. When they finally met, she didn't know who the hell he was and demanded he get off her property, only saying then that it could be any number of guys who fathered her child. As far as laws do go, I presume that a mother could do what is happening to the boys. They do, after all, have right of way as it were. In some ways this is a very good thing -eyes family warily- but in others it's not. So why now? After all these years? And how does Kyou's current situation tie into it? I don't know, but it's going to be fun finding out!_


	4. Sucker for Punishment

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

_Red Butterfly: Thank you very much your information! It is indeed a great help ;p I look forward to those episodes XD And as for shortness…mweh, I dun mind!_

_Taitofan: Pyuuuu, dun get used to it, Kyou's a bit messed up over love and life, so naturally he will start to bounce between things and possibly have a break down. Or two. Or three. Hey, he might just don a skirt and start singing showtunes with a crewcut._

_Okay, that's NOT an image I needed right now o.o_

_Battygirl: I am touched by your concern for my soul. I must wonder however (because writing this now seems sort of pointless) why you continued to read if it upset you so. And my dear, I have written many stories like this, and because they are stories, they are fiction, and fiction does not exist except in the minds of fangirl/boys such as yourself…I strongly suggest you take a step back and realise Kyou isn't real. I can only apologise when it comes to…ah, finding me and wringing my gay neck – I do not have a chandelier, those are reserved for people who have more money than sense and a nice high roof :) and hell is spelt with two 'l's. Flame once by all means, but multiple flaming on the first chapter is a bit…pathetic. At least show me you bothered to read on and then complain. -pets head and watches her snap at the hand- nn;; hee_

_Oh dear. This has led me to perverted thoughts. Naughty thoughts. -blushes deeply- Very naughty, perverted thoughts. I might have to draw this one and set it up nicely…-giggles like the fangirl she obviously is-_

_And this chapter is probably too slow and too silly, but suddenly Rakka wanted out. So there o.o_

**Chapter Four**: Sucker for punishment

Damn. She was running late.

Rakka hopped off her bike halfway down the street, running and slowing to a walk with practised ease. It was not that she ever meant to be late; it was that somehow, something always stopped her. Grabbing the chain from her knapsack she locked up the trusty mess of pipes and wheels and darted inside the shop to get ready for her shift. Seto was already behind the corner, and poking his tongue out her the older boy gestured to the boxes.

"New shipment."

"Ugh."

Holidays were no fun for Rakka. Apart from her schedule being stepped up a notch to make way for all that free time, she had to factor in work as well, and nothing ever seemed to go right. Her muscles ached, her throat was on fire, and what she needed was fresh air and a nice drink, not a stuffy shop.

As much as she loved everything about her job, when you need a day off, you need a day off. Jamming her bag behind the counter she moved over to the boxes and found a strange sense of satisfaction that for once someone had got the order right. Grabbing the store's only blade she opened the box with much practised ease and started to unload.

This was good, clean work. Gave her time to think.

Methodically moving up and down the shelves, Rakka started to hum, going over the song she had learnt the few hours before. The object was not to sing the words now; it was to get the tune right, to hit each note to make sure next rehearsal she'd get it right. Telling herself it was just nerves was crazy; it wasn't. She was being pushed too hard for this stupid production and it wasn't fair.

Bah. The note was off. Going back to the box she concentrated on the tune again, hitting each note and trying to hold it, not trying to actually do the tune anymore. High note, high note, who can hit the high note, she mused and tried again.

"Ahhhhhhhhh" A pause. Higher this time. "Ahhhh-" A wad of paper bounced off her head.

"Shut up."

Rolling her eyes Rakka stood and walked to the end of the aisle and stared at the taller boy with a ferocious glare. Then, with great care, she moved back to the box and continued her work.

Rakka had not come to live with her aunt and uncle for any reason other than education was better here than back in the proverbial old country. Private schools yes, okay, she could handle the snottiness, the bitterness and the anger that filled the walls with its' own stink. But the ownership thing her aunt had over her annoyed her no end. Rakka was not an A-grade student, no. But she had a voice. When not worried by others, she had a presence. She was good on stage.

And so, when the school wanted to put on a performance, Rakka had been hand picked as one of the leads, forced to sing and dance like a circus freak. All the fun had gone out of the young girl, who had only wanted to play in the school's band, but her guitar was now neglected and sitting in a corner in her room, slowly gathering dust.

She was a performer.

Just another member of the McKenzie family.

Rakka bit her lip and in a particularly vicious way shoved the latest copies of Witchblade on the shelves. From the cover the heroine smiled smugly while presenting her cleavage to the viewer in what was supposed to be a sexy way. Rakka saw it as a personal insult and an obvious cry for attention.

"Wow." Came a voice. "Uhh, that's impressive."

"It's cheap shlock." Rakka snapped, her fury venting. "Skin is so passé now, and the character is slipping in quality. It's degenerated into soft-core pornography now."

"Well…I suppose a lot of people buy it."

"They do, but I doubt it's for the story. They always feel so cheap." Rakka grabbed another lot. "If the character was real, she'd probably lead a very miserable life, be alone and probably die in her apartment talking to her twenty or so cats." Pausing, she looked up at the customer. "Did you know that the body actually adjusts itself for the climate? That, in cold weather, should a girl wear a short skirt, fat will be taken to the parts of the body exposed to keep the muscles warm?"

"That's gross in a cool way."

"Yea-" Rakka stopped, eyes widening, realising who she was talking to. Her heart started to pound and she twitched her shoulders irritably, angry at herself for being so open. The youth from yesterday was back and looking amazedly at the books on sale; and it really felt like the icing on the cake as far as bad days went. As a rule she was fairly easy going, but recently with all the pushing and the shoving…she'd been disagreeable…Oh well. She'd felt horrible once he'd left, because he seemed so desperate, but after those comments…well, there was a reason for everything. Looking for a point of conversation, she glanced up again and took the plunge. "Going to buy Love Hina?"

"…Actually, when I came in, I saw how many books were in the series and thought better of it. There are like, nine of them…that's crazy."

"Fourteen actually." He gasped. "Yeah, crazy huh? Amazing someone could draw so much. Negima is probably more your style since it's his latest and the girls are a plenty and often without a stitch of clothing." Did she imagine him blush? "Also less volumes."

"I, uh, sure. I'm not actually into all of that."

Now it was Rakka's turn to blush. "Sorry. I'm just so used to being asked for recommendations. Well…there's also the humour aspect of it. And Negi-chan is very cute. Uhhh, from a girl's opinion." She could never remember names. The boy was very individual, she'd never seen a head of hair that wild before, but his name eluded her. "…Uhh, there are lots more you know." The blush continued to grow, some tiny internal voice screaming 'OH MY GOD YOU'RE TALKING TO A BOOOOOOOOY!!!!'

"Rakka, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Hey, freak boy, you gonna buy something?!" Came the yell from up front.

"Maybe if you stop staring at me!" The youth called back.

"Screw you pal!" Came the yell back. Seto returned to reading 2000AD.

"I apologise for Seto's behaviour." Came the mumbled apology.

"He's not a patch on the chick from yesterday. You been demoted?"

"No. Just got in late."

"Oh."

Rakka felt the heat start to rise again. The boy was talking to her and she didn't know why. He'd been rather nasty the day before, but now he seemed a bit nicer. Guys. Huh.

"Look…I don't say this often, but I'm sorry."

"Pardon?"

"From yesterday?"

"Yes, yes, I know, it's just…" Rakka couldn't help but smile. Okay, her face was bright red, but she didn't care. "It's very nice of you. Thank you…but my behaviour was inexcusable. I'm just not used to it. Um. All-girls school."

"Whoa."

"You're telling me. The males of the species are quite a worry, mister…uhhh…I'm sorry…names never seem to click with me…" Her voice died away as did her self confidence, her mind spinning away into the bleakness of inexperience.

Okay, said the mental voice. He's quite cute when he's not scowling, or being nasty or just plain…whatever. Now, by saying what you've just said, you've revealed that not only are you a ditz, he's not worth the trouble. This is the only chap who's bothered to look at you and not at your chest in this be-damned shop, and you've blown it.

"Oh drat."

"What?" The youth cocked an eyebrow.

Thaaaaaaaaats right. Go ahead. Spill it all out. You've already dug your own grave, let's get the matching gravestone and what have you. Lilies are good.

"I have no idea how to talk to people. And worse still…I suppose you might say that I'm not exactly how to talk properly either. I sound posh but I'm really not."

"Whatever."

Nice work. Verbal diarrhoea looks good in a girl.

"Sorry?" came the squeak.

The boy looked mystified. "For what?"

"For being stupid?"

"You're weird." He started to walk away.

Turning back herself, Rakka stared at the box and felt flustered. Why was he annoying her so? And why the heck was she apologising? Why in hell was she acting in this way, and so happily screwing herself over?

"Hey, Rakka?"

She looked up and around.

Standing there, the guy grinned. It was a very different smile to the ones she saw in ever day life, one filled with menace and cruelty…but also a wicked sense of humour. Hands on his hips, he was the complete bad boy package she mused to herself. Now he's going to insult me or something again, and I'll be expected to either blow up again or act all sobby or even fawn over him.

"My name is Kyoushiro." He said. "Got it?"

Oh. She blinked in surprise and watched him leave. And that was that.

to be continued.

_OMG classic cliché, bad boy meets good girl. Bad Plink. Good thing nothing is as it seems. Rakka is such a space case…and the whole singing thing will come into it later. It's not some sort of popidol thing or whatever, it's just a talent quest. I think. I lost my notes XD_

_Bai__ and what have you ;p have cookies, and enjoi the new year XD_


	5. Ya gotta do whatcha gotta do!

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

_-waves at her reviewers- Bah, I wanted to do some artwork and so forth, but unfortunately work has been getting in the way XD And my original stuff, which never seems to go away…that's a good thing, mind. I just wish they would slow down and stop dragging me everywhere._

_ShadowDagger – Someone needs a nice, warm, hug. _

_Ray's Number Gurl – Hehe, I don't mind! We all have our lives to live, so I don't mind if you don't review a chapter or something – I just hope you keep enjoying yourself! _

_Taitofan – Your words of encouragement mean so very much to me. It is an honour to know that Rakka has slipped under your radar as 'harmless'. Hakuoh will find that out how harmless soon enough nn She's been evolving in my mind however as I write this (I'm a few chapters ahead and having a grand old time) and has gone under a few interesting changes. Kokujo's going to be kept on his toes in this one!_

_BattyGirl – Where would I be without your voice of reason? A wonderful day to you too, my dear. The only thing I ask is to be more specific when you decide to write down your feelings – Hel was the furthest thing from my mind in replying, because you made it seem like another run of the mill flame…thus dumbing you down. Hel however, rules death, not just hell, and decides where a person should go on the merits of their actions during their life…more importantly those in battle. Ah, and the blues. –smiles fondly- I think for the moment with the current world situations, she has her hands full…let's wait until the end of the story, my dear. I am pleased to see someone interested in the old ways. I'm also pleased to see you live comfortably – so many of us don't these days. As for the reviewing section, why bother then, with chapter one? Why not the last chapter you read, thus not exposing yourself to more of my apparent evil? And I'm still waiting on the email. Chatting like this is cumbersome, and I want to draw! And what's this about your brother…?_

_Oh my dears. Tonight is a night of roughness and waiting. I watch the stars with the key in my hand, wondering which door I shall be given, and what lays beyond it…_

**Chapter Five**: Ya gotta do what ya gotta do…

For the next few days, Kokujo was on his best behaviour. It wasn't simply because he thought someone might be watching, it was a simple matter of getting into practise for when the representatives of the government might pop round, have a cuppa and then clear out his stuff.

This also meant no Hakuoh.

He had not taken it well.

"What the hell do you mean, we can't see each other anymore?!" Hakouh spat, his fists balled.

"It's not forever; it's just for the next few weeks-"

"Kyoushiro Kokujo, you are my _property_, and I don't care what's happening, you're here when I want you to be, and you will do as I say!" The smaller boy swung a punch that was easily caught by his older lover. Holding him close, Kokujo embraced him tightly while he struggled.

"No."

"Bah!" Came the growl from his chest.

"This is not about you, Hakuoh."

"Who was on the 'phone the other day?!"

Kokujo felt his face flush. "What? You were awake?"

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"God, why are you so _clingy_? I thought you liked it when I saw someone else!"

"Only if I could watch! You were talking to _someone_. Covering up about where you are." The pale eyes narrowed. "Am I not _good_ enough for the great and terrible Lone Wolf?"

"NO. Hakuoh! Quit the emotional blackmail, will you?" Kokujo pushed him away. "It was my _father_."

Hakuoh stared at him, eyes wide, anger forgotten. "You have parents?"

"Of course I do. People just never really bother to find that stuff out. What did you think?"

"I thought you were in council care or something considering your image."

"Nooooo, of course not. I may be pretty loose when it comes to morals my dear, but I have family."

Slipping back into his cloud of misery and anger, Hakouh slunk to one of the chairs and stared at the duel table in front of him. "Just you and your father?"

"Yeah. For as long as I can remember. No, he doesn't know about us, and that's why I can't stick around."

"He doesn't approve?"

Kokujo winced. "He doesn't know."

Hakouh smiled.

"Look, it's like this. I have to keep my head down and be nice and quiet and stuff so that when the time comes, I will look and act like a normal fifteen year old. This is for reasons I don't want to go into with you, and I'm not hiding anything so stop staring at me." Kokujo sat at the other end, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "I don't like this any more than you do, but hey, I happen to like my life being the way it is, y'know?"

"…I could always get Master to pull some strings."

"And reveal us?"

Hakuoh sighed. "Ah. I see."

"Yeah."

Another silence. Taking this as a hint, Kokujo got up and walked away, heading for the door. But before he got there, he heard Hakuoh move. He had stood up once more, and outlined in light he looked majestic. Or perhaps overdramatic. Kokujo couldn't really tell these days. "You'd better come back. I enjoy our games, but don't forget what you have here. Or else."

"Yeah." Kokujo waved a hand, completely ruining the moment. "Whatever."

oOo

And that had been that. Perhaps it wasn't the response Hakuoh was expecting, but what could you do? They'd separated for the moment, and now he was sitting in the park letting things go over in his head and making some decisions. He was not going to enjoy this period of celibacy, but things had to be done – what defined a person as normal? Would he have to get a haircut or something? His clothing would have to be changed, maybe even his duelling deck too…God, this was scary! But what was normal? What did it involve?

While he thought about this, he shuffled his deck, and didn't respond when someone called his name. Maybe he did hear it, maybe he just thought it was the Kirifuda Cheering Squad, but when a hand waved under his nose he scowled and looked up.

"Oh…I'm sorry…"

The girl from the dare. Kokujo relaxed. "Oh. Right. Hey."

Rakka wheeled her bike to the other side of the bench and bit her lip. "Uhh, sorry about that. You look kinda down."

"No, I'm just off in another world. Uhh…" He searched his mind. "Hello?"

Rakka wasn't like Mimi or Saiyuki, so technically he had no idea how to talk to her. He'd tried, but she'd sort of got all embarrassed and stuff, and it made _him_ feel embarrassed and then they'd both been looking at their collective shoes. He was used to yelling and ranting, even making evil comments, but being evil to the girl in front of him was like being evil to a pillow. It just flopped down and didn't fight back. Kokujo sighed.

"…I wanted to apologise-"

"Again?"

"Um, yes. I didn't mean to upset you yesterday."

"You didn't. You're just funny."

"Oh. Right."

Silence again. He moved over, allowing her to sit. She hadn't been to work that day he guessed, but she looked tired, and her voice sounded creaky. They stared ahead of them and didn't say anything, until he heard the rustle of fabric of someone looking over at him.

"…Kyoushiro, isn't it?"

Well that was a surprise. Kokujo smiled. "Hey, you remembered!"

"My head's always full of fluff." She opened her mouth to speak and then stopped, thinking. "I…Um, I just wanted to know why you said all that stuff the other day."

"About going out?"

"Uh-huh."

Well, well, well. Straight to the point. This was surprising and kind of nice. "I'd been having a bad day. Those kids I came in with dared me to do it."

"Oh." She swung her legs idly, the tips of her shiny shoes making hissing noises every time they came into contact with the grass.

Why'd she look so upset? Whoa, face change, she was smiling again. This was confusing. Kokujo continued to watch, but when he watches something as intently as he does his cards, it's quite intimidating. Now she looked worried.

"I-I just-"

"Nothing personal you understand." You can go now, he thought sullenly. Stop messing up my bad vibrations!

"Yes. That's what I thought." She got up, and went to get her bike again. "I mean, it couldn't be some random act of chance or something, or, let's say, a higher power or something trying to get us together for their own amusement. Just a dare, right?"

"Yeah. Not a good one either."

Hnh, if only it was this easy to make the other girls go away.

"Okay…well, thanks!" She said, hopped on her bike and rode away.

He watched her go, quite surprised again. Kokujo wasn't used to people just up and leaving like that. His experience with girls did go so far as having his own private fangirls who wouldn't leave him at school even if he yelled at them. He got used to them and just ignored them (making them follow him all the more) and they hadn't quite figured out about Hakuoh yet…or did know and liked the idea…but when someone goes off that quickly there had to be something wrong.

There was a crash.

He got up.

Something had clicked in his mind, and he was not enjoying the consequences. But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?

Damn Toru.

oOo

There was much pointing and giggling as the end of the day rolled around, and not because it was wearing a funky new bowtie and had grass in his hair. Rakuda picked himself up and glared at Shobu as he dusted off his clothes and decided that from now on, he was going to stay well away from flailing arms. They were dangerous things and while the frequent flier miles he was clocking up were good, there were only so many times you could do this without suffering permanent damage.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rakuda saw something move, something dark and terrible.

Shobu continued to do his victory dance, regardless.

He tends to do that quite often.

As Rakuda straightened his glasses, he realised that the dark blurry shadow walking towards him was not Death but something far worse. With a face like a thundercloud, Kokujo entered the fray, grabbed Shobu by the back of his pants and lifted him up. The resulting squeal sounded vaguely piglike and Shobu twisted in his grip, only to be dropped. Grabbing the deck of cards, Kokujo threw them at the sky and smirked as they came down like rain and conveniently gave Rakuda a paper cut as they came down.

"ARRRRGGHHH! MY HAND MY BEAUTIFUL HAND!!!"

"GOD my pants…KOKUJO GET-" Down Shobu went, getting a mouthful of grass.

With a girlie squeal, Toru was upended and quickly shoved into a headlock. The two boys struggled, but Kokujo relaxed his body and let Toru's movement swing them both around, and on the right trajectory let the younger boy go headlong into a tussock of grass.

Then with a final snarl and a throwing of deck, Hurricane Kokujo left as quickly as he came, stalking up the path and looking like the slightest thing was enough to set him off again.

"Ummm…wow." Rakuda murmured. For once he had not been sent flying.

"What's eating him?!" Came the gasp from the grass.

"I have no idea."

to be continued.

_Kyou's__ mad for obvious reasons. Geeeeeeeently pull it back, plink…_


	6. The temporary truce of d00m

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

**Chapter Six**: The temporary truce of doom

It came as no surprise to anyone…especially you, fair readers…when Kokujo managed to locate Rakka the next day. He walked into the store, wearing his nicest clothes (not the coolest, that was for sure) and found her behind the desk again, looking incredibly flustered. Noticing the look from the person behind the counter, he made a great show of looking through the shelves, and finally picked something up. Well, he had planned this, and biting his lip, he approached the desk and caught Rakka's eye.

Then watched her get pushed out of the way.

In a no-nonsense way, Chitose rung up the register, took his money, gave him his change and then stared at him until he left.

Well, _that_ hadn't gone as planned.

Looking around, he decided to sit down on the small bus stop, a few metres away from the entrance and relax – from his careful questioning after slamming Seto against a wall when he was about to leave and threatening to tell anyone about Seto's secret Hello Kitty fetish, he'd learnt all of Rakka's time table. And, by his count, his first week was almost up.

He had to work fast.

But, hey, the sun was out again, why not enjoy it? Sitting down, he opened the shrink wrap and began to read.

Kokujo had never done this before. He never saw a reason to stop and actually do anything as simple as this, because it just didn't fit his style. It also gave him time to switch off, and as he continued on in his book a smile began to form, followed by the odd chuckle of delight. Buses came and buses went, but no one bothered him until a shadow fell over his book and he looked up.

"Are you stalking me?"

"Uhh…no."

"Uh-_huh_."

Rakka sat next to him.

"I figured maybe we could talk. Seeing as I need your help."

"Umm, sure." Came the worried reply of someone who was not used to company. Oh, this was too good to pass up -

"Do you have any friends _at all_?"

"HEY!"

"Easy." Kokujo grinned evilly. "You're too easy to wind up, you know that?"

"Oh, lay off-" Came the hissed reply. Rakka went to leave but Kokujo was already up and making a grab for her hand. She turned sharply, but did not break away, simply leaning forward as a child would in the hope that the person holding onto them would let go. Of course, he would not.

"Not in that way. I meant that you're funny. What happened to your knee?"

Rakka blushed. "Umm, fell over yesterday."

Kokujo took a scary mental leap. "I was…kinda mean…Sorry about that."

"It's…ok. What's on your mind?"

The dark haired youth stared in surprise. But then his mind caught up with his ears – of course, she wasn't one of the twerps. No big shiny eyes and 'aww, come 'ere ya big lug' or even worse 'let's duel to celebrate'. Unsure of where to go next, he cocked his head to the side and considered his options. "D'you wanna walk with me?"

oOo

"I suppose it's because you're almost a complete stranger to me and all." Floated a lofty voice. It was very up itself, which is hardly surprising seeing as this is Kokujo we're talking about here.

"Yeah, because I don't know you?"

"Probably."

"Formulating an opinion on someone on first impressions?"

"Are you going to let me tell my tragic and overly long story?"

"No, because it's probably going to be full of horrendous flashbacks."

Kokujo grinned.

The two were in the park. It seems to figure quite heavily in this story, doesn't it? Anyway, on one of the grassy hills, the two lay stretched out and were staring at the clouds above them, talking about whatever came into their minds. Unlike what one might ordinarily expect; there was no instant connection other than the fact someone as bright and as cheerful as Rakka played off brilliantly against Kokujo's mean streak of humour.

In short, they were having fun.

And this was just _clouds_ for chrissakes! What was the world coming to?

"Okay, I'm sorry I cut you down and all…what did happen to you?" Rakka finally asked, looking to her left. It gave her a great view of Kokujo's ear.

"To begin with; you're not sorry, and why should I tell you now?" Kokujo shot back.

The grass rustled. It tends to in this kind of scene. "Because you're _busting _to tell someone."

"Hnh. Whatever."

Another silence.

"Well?"

"I'm trying to be broody here." Came the chuckled reply. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to be cool when you're around? You seem to just…ooze geekness. That is not cool." Rakka laughed. In his vision, he saw her shoe against the clouds.

Kokujo sighed. There was no point in fighting the inevitable, and he needed her help after all. If that meant telling her the important stuff, then it was okay with him – better than confiding in the moron society, who would no doubt formulate some sort of plan and it would all blow up in an amusing way in his face. Presumably, he would learn some sort of lesson and get on well with both parents, maybe even reuniting them.

Tch. No chance in hell.

"My mother is coming to town."

"Isn't that good?"

"I don't really know. I don't much about the stuff back then and all…I just know I've always been with my dad and my ma was out of the picture for I don't know how long."

"Wow."

"So…Ma wants back into the picture. I don't know why. But…it's freaking me out, and I don't freak easily. My Dad hardly sleeps. He's pulling double shifts and going crazy over the house…"

"Trying to get it ready or something maybe?"

"I guess…"

Rakka rolled over, her bag clinking ominously at her side. Looking down at him with an expression of extreme concentration it could be said she looked quite sweet. The only problem was that now Kokujo could see up her nose.

'Twas not a good look.

"How do you feel on all of this? I mean, how well do you know this woman?"

"Not too well." Kokujo sighed. "We talked some time and all, but it never really became anything because if I ever went near her, she'd get all huffy and mean." To illustrate his point, he idly waved a grass stalk around. It didn't help his image. "So, there's this social worker visiting us, and is seeing how we react. Me and dad of course. Then reporting back."

"I don't see what the problem is concerning that factor of your life…You're not that challenged are you? It's just your mother, right?"

"Uh, yeah." A fleeting version of Hakuoh beneath him made his stomach twist. Not because what he was doing was wrong; it was how it would be viewed. "Thing is…I've done some things I enjoyed…but wouldn't be seen as correct in the eyes of someone I hardly know. Unfortunately, someone roughly guessed and has been starting rumours about me."

Rakka only nodded, staying silent. Ordinarily, there would have been some sort of outburst by now followed by cutesy poses. Having someone listening and not chiming in with things that were supposed to boost his already oversized ego was something new.

"Most of the kids around here don't like me, so the rumour will spread, and will no doubt dirty the Kokujo name and land my dad and me in the proverbial shit. Then…it's off to reform school. I'll probably become a lawyer."

"Hnh. A fate truly worse than death. Why does everyone hate you?"

"You don't get out much do you?"

Rakka didn't reply at first, only staring back just as coolly. "…Why then?"

Kokujo sighed and sat up, fidgeting a little. "Because…I'm mean…"

"I know, but why else?"

The sulky reply couldn't have come from his mouth. Or something. "Because nobody likes me."

"Well, you are arrogant, controlling and rather cruel to people. But I suppose that's part of your charm." Rakka pulled herself up and sat down beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. "But that…as far as I can see…is just you. I mean, you're not so bad from my point of view." Her dark eyes met his. "…But I am curious…why me? What about those people you were with before? They seemed nice."

Kokujo said nothing. Then, finally, he decided to grace her with honesty. "I need someone to talk to. Someone who doesn't know me on the playing field and with a fresh point of view." He grimaced and looked away, not really wanting to say it to her face. "And I need someone who can pretend. For the last week I've seen what you're like, and I'm glad that Toru decided on you. So, could we pretend?"

"Sorry?"

"Will you…will you go out with me? I just need to kiss a girl in front of Toru, and I have his word he'll leave me alone and not tell anyone…'specially anyone who asks questions about me."

Rakka looked at him, and she looked sad. "A guy like you has to ask a girl to _kiss_ him? Figured they'd be lining up and all…"

"What?"

"Look in the mirror some time. You're…the tall, dark, broody bad boy who every girl would like to be with…makes 'em feel safe." She giggled. "_I_ like you. Not…in that way. I mean…you're talking to me, and not just seeing me as a piece of furniture that makes noises." She sighed. "Just kinda peeved that this is for a dare…"

"Hey, it's just a kiss."

"Kisses are not meant for stealing, Kyoushiro." She got up. "And a girl's first kiss is kinda special."

"I…Uh, I'm sorry?"

"Thanks. I think."

And then she walked away. Feeling slightly better about it all, the weight seemed to have lifted from his shoulders. Kokujo sighed and rested his head against his knee, brushing his deck at his side for support. The dark energy curled briefly around his arm and stilled the chaos inside. This was…unusual. It had been hard to ask her to do that, when normally he'd have blustered in and yelled until he got what he wanted. Besides, what she said was confusing…that bit about the dare…oh hell…Why was it so hard?

oOo

It was dark by the time she got home, skulking inside and peering around the door. Normal, standard routine; sit at dinner, talk civilly and then shower and go upstairs.

She slumped onto the bed, vaguely aware of being damp and stared at the ceiling.

She wondered why she had agreed to coming here. Rakka's dreams of music had been the only thing to really drive her; and here was the only place to go to learn…and learn properly. But the politics here were driving her insane, and you'd think her family would try to accommodate her or something. If the tension between them wasn't bad enough; the school was worse.

There had been another Argument.

What happened to the time when you could talk to someone? It was as if she wasn't there. They'd fight and scream and she would quietly clear the table and go upstairs.

It had been about dating again. How…cousin Maron…wanted to date some random fellow from the school OMGshockhorror…and how it had been put down that no boy was being dragged into this household. Maron always wanted everything now; she was the only child after Rakka's aunt had complications during labour, so her parents doted on her…the problem was that too much meant a spoilt brat. And let's face it; that was what she was.

Rakka closed her eyes.

Opened them.

Reaching for her guitar for the first time since the original argument four months ago, she plucked a few strings and tuned the battered and well loved instrument. Then she began to play.

Kyoushiro Kokujo would be a fitting distraction. The only problem was that if she transferred back into a normal school, she wouldn't be able to pursue music anymore…

…but what was music without happiness? She couldn't really be happy in this city. Ever. Well, at least until someone explained to the rest of the world that people should relax more.

And what about Kyou? She blushed at the nickname, the strumming becoming faster and more complicated as the tune formed. Oh boy, she was giving him nicknames now. Oh dear.

Best play it by ear.

The hammering on the wall by the sent-to-her-room Hikari only made her smirk, and she put down her guitar and slipped beneath the covers, punched her pillows into a nicer position and tuned out to the shouting downstairs.

A welcome distraction indeed…

- **to**** be continued**.

_OMG it happened nn I got in! Yaaaay I get to do animation at uniiiiiiiii!!! –dances- eeeeeeee!_


	7. Girls can be cruel

_Yay__, I can write back to my reviewers XD I posted the last chapter before actually reading stuff so, yea, I'm a little out of step nn;;_

_Red Butterfly – Kyou's mother finally makes an appearance…she scares me TT as for Mimi she will eventually return in a couple of chapter's time._

_Taitofan -laughs happily- I'm always worried I'm portraying him wrong! They stopped showing it here, so I'm sort of saying this is now in an AU…it will end very differently to how I first thought…but I can't wait to write it! Hakuoh will be very ebil :3 Your flame barriers are spiffy nn_

_Shadow Dagger – I greatly appreciate anything people have to say – you took time out to state your opinion instead of passing me by. You have gone even further to look back at your actions; and that takes grace. Thank you. If you do continue to read this; I hope you like what happens._

_BattyGirl – My, my, we are full of surprises. I do like your art – Paint is a hard thing to work with nn But…you can review art? I can't seem to there. You already know my views on your latest story – not your best work…I preferred your het pairings. _

_Needless to say, some art will be done soon. Oh yes…_

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

**Chapter Seven**: Girls can be cruel

When Kokujo woke up the next morning, he lay still for awhile, disturbed that the place felt…different. Fishing around his bedside cabinet, he found the old watch his father had given him when he was around five years old (complete with trucks still) and blinked blearily at the dial. It was one of those sentimental things you kept a hold of, it was the first real gift his father had given him back in the days of yore, and he hadn't understood about it then. But now, it always warmed him to hold it and he grasped it tightly.

He sat up, still with his doona around him and carefully nudged his hair behind his ears. The room was okay, check. His wardrobe was half open due to the amassing of crap from the last and only move he remembered, boxes that were still unpacked. His posters were all up on the walls. The shelves housing all manner of personal things were not out of place. Hell, his dirty washing was still where he left it – on the floor.

But something wasn't right.

He tucked himself back under the covers. It was too dark, probably going to rain again later on. The clouds had been coming back last night, and the weatherman had reported storms for today…just great. As if following that thought, the curtains rustled and the fly screen rattled in the breeze that blew the papers off his desk.

Getting onto his knees, he quickly shut the glass, and tried to shake the misery that bore down on him, the dampness of weather like this. Lurking. Storms were nice; but when clouds lurked like this and damp filled the air, it was depression weather.

Kokujo crawled back under the covers and turned the bedside light off plunging his room into dark blue again. Closing his eyes he tried to catch the tail of sleep again. Maybe just a little longer-

The door opened.

Pulling the cover back, he was surprised to find his father creeping in and sliding the door close behind him. The light was clicked on and the bed jerked as Keitaro sat down beside him.

"Oi." He breathed, lightly prodding his son.

"Daaaaaa-aad, I'm naked!"

"Bull. Get up."

"Why are you whispering?"

"She's here."

"The woman from the government?"

"No. Your ma."

oOo

Ten minutes later, scrubbed clean and dressed in fresh clothing he did his best not to run down the stairs to see the woman he had only ever spoken to, and never actually seen. He was dressed comfortably, but it still felt wrong to come down into the living room and see two people sitting there he didn't know.

The first was a dumpy woman who looked very official. Her light hair – dyed obviously from the colour of her roots – was done back in a bun and her make up was perhaps a little much. But she had laughter lines around her eyes and mouth and a second look made him realise that the professional air was just for the job. She looked quite gentle.

The other woman seated on the other side however, was _not_ gentle.

You could see it in her. Straight upright, immaculately dressed, perfectly poised, her handsome curls were kept back from her face by a band to protect her perfect face. Her eyes were hard, and for a moment, he realised where he'd seen them before.

In the mirror.

Hitomi Nanase blinked solemnly and sipped her coffee again.

Stuck for a second or so, Kokujo stopped dead still. He wasn't even aware he was holding his breath until Keitaro came in and stood behind him, lightly squeezing his shoulders.

"Don't be shy, Kyou." He breathed.

"Come along dear, please sit." The official smiled at him and he nodded, unable to meet his mother's face. The living room was set up nicely, it always had been. They were seated across from each other now, the coffee table between them as a sort of shield. Kokujo remembered the day they'd bought it from…well, from Ikea. Amazing where that shop was opening up now. It had been a fun afternoon setting it up; after all, that's where they'd gotten most of their furniture, nice and cheap. All they could afford.

On the table was set a small selection of savoury munchies Keitaro must have made the day before at work. While Kokujo's mother didn't seem to want any, the official was helping herself to them and enjoying them greatly.

"Hello, Kei." Hitomi sat the cup down and smiled at the man sitting across from her, both males painfully away of how shabby they looked compared to her. Perfect nails flashed in what little light there was and she cupped her chin. "It's been fifteen and a half years since I last saw you." There was a pause. "You haven't changed."

Keitaro sat back, folding his arms. It was a defensive gesture, but a reserved one of a man who doesn't want to let his temper get the better of him. "You've certainly done well for yourself. I can't remember you ever looking as good as you do now."

Petting her ego was probably the only way to get out of this. Unconsciously, Kokujo nodded, trying to resist the temptation to curl up into a ball and watch her from behind his knees. The table simply wasn't enough.

"…This is Yotsuba Satsuki." Hitomi purred, waving an elegant hand. "My lawyer and our little mediator. Though…I'm not sure where we can begin…"

"Perhaps…explaining the facts, Miss Nanase." Yotsuba smiled her bright smile and patted the bun at the back of her head. "My client would like to investigate a relationship with her son…we want all of this to go as smoothly as possible, which is why we're all sitting down happily and discussing this like responsible adults. The young man included. Kyoushiro, is it?"

Ah. Be sociable! "Yeah."

"Delightful. You are so much like your father."

Muttered, he thought he heard his mother say "a little too much" but said nothing.

"Mr Kokujo…you are aware of the legal implications of this predicament?" She peered at Kokujo. "My dear child, if I am bothering you at all…"

"I'm fine."

"All right. It's just that I have to evaluate everything here and help you sit through a few tests…" He felt cold. "Just to see how you are doing-"

"Oh, cut the crap Satsuki." Hitomi snarled. She stood up, smoothing down her slim line skirt, slinking over to where Keitaro sat and glared at him. "Let me bring you up to speed, Kei. After our little tryst and little Koshiro-"

"Kyou. _Kyou_shiro."

"Yes dear." She waved at Kokujo dismissively. "I managed to get my life on track. I took control, and managed to land a job in the fashion world."

"I can tell. You're still puking in the staff toilets, aren't you?"

"Ha. Funny. I'm over that now and don't you forget it. Everyone is in control of their lives and it takes will power to get things done. Something you lack." She glared at him. "This is place is so typically _you_. I'm an editor of one of the most popular magazines in the country, and I'm being head hunted to go international. I can't wait. I have everything I could ever want, ever need." Then she looked at Kokujo.

He'd only ever seen that look on Hakuoh's face.

One of hunger.

"But they decided to do a background check on me. I was _traumatised_, Kei. Having a baby so young does terrible things to a girl, and worse still when the reminder is sitting there in her permanent record."

"Are you telling me you want Kyou for some insane justification that you're okay and they should hire you?"

"Popping out a bubby at sixteen doesn't do well for the resume Kei, 'specially when you leave that bubby with his abusive father." Her smugness was painful.

"What? Abusive?" Keitaro spat, standing up. "I never raised a hand to you!"

"Of course you didn't, but that's not what the court is going to hear."

"You lying little-"

"Face it Kei. We were doomed from the start you and I. We were trouble. I was the good girl, you were the bad boy, and wow, did we hit it off or what? Fact is I can say whatever I want to say and drag you through the dirt. I know how fragile you are, Kei. I do my homework." She sat back down. "You've done better than my parents expected, but then they thought you'd be dead in the gutter by the time you turned 21. But, eight years on, you're actually _working_. You have a home…a small, dirty little hovel I must say, but you live and you prosper. I see you have no Mrs Kokujo?"

"Umm, Miss Nanase…"

Keitaro stared at her. Kokujo had never seen him so angry before…except that one time at the parent teacher meeting when the idea of single fatherhood that young came up. Woohoo, fireworks. The teacher had left with a limp. "I never got round to it, Hitomi. A man doesn't when he's left without a leg to stand on. But I carried on. I got an education and settled down into something I enjoy doing."

Kokujo's stomach flipped. What?

"Making cakes? How novel of you. What does your _boyfriend_ think?"

"God, woman, it's an art. But you wouldn't know what art was because you have the imagination of a rock-"

"Please, the pair of you-"

"Oh, shut up, Kei."

"I did what I could. You left me with our…with _my_ son to raise and no help at all. I was worried about you! Everyone blanked me, hell, if it hadn't been for my parents, maybe I would have ended up like your story. If anyone's to blame for this situation, it isn't me. You and your family blackened my name. I had to skip _town_ for crying out loud. I moved everything to come here!"

"For what little good it did. You can't seem to get ahead."

Keitaro fell silent.

"I'm offering you a cash settlement. You come to court and you sign the papers. I take the boy and you get enough to live on. To pay off those mounting bills. Don't think I don't know. You barely make ends meet around here."

"Actually I do. I'm happy. I don't want your dirty money."

"You do, Kei. You always have. Isn't that why you chased me all those years ago?"

"I chased you because I liked you and I thought you were nice. Now I see I was wrong."

"That's because you _ruined_ me! You spiteful, hateful little-"

"_All right enough, the pair of you_!" Shocked into silence, both parents sat back down. Yotsuba was shaking, her scrawled notes put away. "I am shocked with your behaviour! Regardless of past events, this is not how two responsible adults act in front of a child!"

"Responsible my ass. Couldn't be bothered to find a condom-"

"Miss Nanase!"

"I have to go." Kokujo said very quietly, getting up. And leaving the stunned adults to themselves, he went out into the rain.

And slammed the door behind him.

oOo

The car rolled up to his resting place a little while later. Meaning that the sky had cleared and the sun had come out again, the victim of the temperamental weather that seemed to have rolled into the district. The sky was starting to tinge to a mix of pink and gold as the sun started its' final descent.

A fair few hours.

He'd moved around a fair bit seeing as Kirifuda kept following him. The younger boy and his tiny little friend were constantly dogging his footsteps then disappearing and arguing with themselves. How…frustrating.

Sitting on the step, Kokujo stared listlessly into the brightened day and was fairly silent. The anger had just about gone now as much as everything else – not by him getting rid of it. Ordinarily a shuffle of his deck would be enough to restore him to his normal spiteful self, but he'd been knocked for six. So, he'd done what any normal person would do, and simply ignored it.

Now he felt numb.

The car stopped, and the door opened.

He ignored the occupant. Just kept going over the phrases in his mind. The insults. The accusations.

He'd had no idea whatsoever about the bad feelings between the two. He'd always viewed his mother with a sort of dread, but to know he'd been abandoned from the minute he was born left a massive dent in his well-being. Kokujo shivered. A child of a one night stand. A bad boy and a good girl, at some sort of party or something; and he'd been the result.

Kinda explained a few things.

"…Kyou…"

Kokujo didn't focus.

His mother was acting on a loophole in society. He was going to be used and paraded as an item instead of as a person. God. This was so…so stupid.

"…Kyou…kiddo, please…"

And worse still…he was the reason why his father was in this crummy job. And stuck in their house. With their things. Why…he'd never been anything, never become anyone. Kokujo was solely responsibly as to why his father would probably never get married and die a lonely old man. Their bond ran deep, but this…this was _poison._

Shadows fell over him.

He deeply wanted somewhere to escape to. Hakuoh maybe, but it would just feel worse. He didn't want to loose himself for a while, he wanted to be rid of this.

The shadows deepened.

Oh, he'd always _suspected_. But…no…

The shadows crushed him.

Only…they weren't shadows. Waking up out of his trance, Kokujo realised he was buried in an embrace. But there was no fear here, not at all. Ordinarily someone of his like would have fought this very much so; but the unconscious part of him longed for it and he clung back as tight as he dared. Burying his head into his father's shoulder and inhaling the smell of his aftershave, father and son stayed very, very still.

A hand stroked the back of his head and Kokujo let his body flop.

"God. Kyou, you scared me." His father whispered. Keitaro gently pulled away, crouched in front of Kokujo as he slouched on the steps. "I figured I'd give you an hour or so to mull this over after you left…but she just kept coming…my God, I'm so sorry…"

Kokujo took a breath. It didn't seem to come. "You're sorry?" His voice cracked. "You're _sorry_?"

"What she said was all lies, kiddo-"

"Don't _call_ me that!"

"Kyou?"

"Don't say it's all right – it's _not_! Why the hell didn't you tell me how bad off we were? And what happened, da, that's not fair-" The words came out quickly and without control. Like a train without breaks, Kokujo was heading into places he'd been trying to ignore. "Why now? It's not fair, I didn't mean to cause all of this, this is so stupid, so dumb-"

"Kyou…Kyou…" Silence fell mid gasp. "You never asked to be born, Kyou. None of this is your fault." Keitaro gently smoothed the hair away from Kokujo's face and helped the shaking boy up. "Come home. We'll sit down. We will talk. You've been out here for quite a while and I think you need something to drink and something to eat."

Kokujo nodded and followed his father to the battered car, slipping inside and strapping himself in. He then let his head loll against the strap. He said nothing more; instead, he let everything blur to the point of being gently lead to the house around a half an hour later. Pausing only at the step, they both ducked inside and then closed the door behind them.

The house felt tainted.

Kokujo, shivering and worried, slumped onto the couch, and was soon joined by his father and a cup of hot chocolate and the two drank without saying a word.

Finally, Kokujo found his voice. "Day off, yeah?"

"Called in sick."

"Cool."

"Kyou…"

"I don't wanna know."

"I'm sorry."

"I said-"

"I didn't know. I honestly didn't _know_. It was just after graduation, I got a phone call from her mother, and I arrived at the hospital just in time. I was…so…fucking…_scared_." Keitaro took a breath. "And there was screaming and everything…she cursed me ten times over, you know? But then they threw me out because I was causing more trouble…and then…you were dumped into my arms. "

Kokujo looked up at his father.

"Hell…I wasn't in a very good state myself. But the moment I looked at you…God, Kyou, I hope one day you experience that."

"What, becoming a teenage father?" Came the sour reply.

"No. Staring at something you know is right."

Kokujo swallowed. Something seemed to have grown in his throat. Things that felt suspiciously like tears pricked his eyes and he fought them down valiantly – now was not the time to be a wet blanket. It just wasn't him.

Keitaro smiled at him. "…And I stared, and stared, and you stared back at me from your blanket. Just stared. And then you smiled. I was the only person you'd ever smile at, everyone else made you cry. They took you back, kept you for a day to check on you and all…then released you…and I was scared because I had no idea how to take care of you. But…my parents…your grandparents…helped me out no end. Sometimes…I got really mad with myself. I got angry at you, but it was only because I wasn't very good at raising a kid."

"Da…" The word had not been used for a long, long time. Ten years perhaps.

"Hear me out. We got on. Damn, Kyou, you are everything to me. Whenever I got down, I'd look at you and I'd find strength to carry on…I had to. 'Cos it wasn't just me." Setting down the cup, Keitaro drew a knee up to his chest and looked at his son again from behind it. "My own ma told me about responsibility. Any moron could pass their kid off at an orphanage. Abandon it. As they say, anyone can be a father. Wrong place, wrong time. But it takes a lot of work to be a dad."

Kokujo smiled faintly.

"You are the reason we came here, yes. We had to leave; we weren't safe there, Hitomi's parents owned a lot of stuff down that way. Finding work to support us was real hard…so…we moved here. I didn't know if we could do it, but look at us now…"

"Da…you're a fucking _cake decorator_."

"That's only half my job, you moron. I'm a baker. I make stuff for people to enjoy."

There was nervous laughter then; nervous only because the house was so quiet. "Yeah, that lady was sure liking it."

"Looked like a little too much. Kyou, it took time, but I like where I am. I have a promotion coming up – one of the heads is leaving. It's an old family business, and I was lucky enough to get in…They trust me. They want me to work well with them. And it's because of you. You're the reason I worked so hard. I don't want you to listen to that…to _her_. I mean…if you want to go with her, I understand…she's offering a lot. I just want you to know I love you; you're my boy, you always will be 'till the day I die. I only want you to be happy."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't know how. I didn't know what you'd think of me. At least, maybe, you'd think your ma and me loved each other. I figured knowing you were…uh, what happened after a roll in the hay would fuck with your self esteem."

"A bit late for that."

"I'm sorry." Keitaro whispered. "I'm so, so, sorry."

Kokujo didn't answer back. Instead, he did something he hadn't done for awhile; leaning into his father's side and smiling when the older Kokujo leaned back.

Then Kokujo's stomach growled. His father chuckled softly and threw an arm around his son's lean form. "You poor sod. Let's get dinner."

"Why did ma come back now?" Kokujo breathed as he drifted into the kitchen.

"Apart from her promotion, I don't know. I really don't know."

to be continued.


	8. Relate and Seperate

_Duel Masters – Heart on my Sleeve_

_-sings- hooooouse-keeeeeeeeping! snorts, Basil style Are you done yet?  
Sorry, didn't mean to go Kohta Hirano on you all XD Massive shout out to Taitofan and the ever silent but always disturbingly evil Phelan –grins- you rawk. –fangirl squeal- and Jammerlea, for FUNNIEST SHIZZLE EV4! I await that finished picture. You're so kewl X) _

_For those who care and those who don't, uni is interesting, if fraught with extreme periods of travel and stress, squealing and insults at fellow classmates as we jostle for computer and light box space. 'Tis the reason why I haven't written in so long X( My beloved NOiSE and I have been separated, and during the weekend when I touch base at home; work has called me in. Oh well, money in the bank, neh? Anyway, I've been zapped from travelling an hour to uni and an hour back…and that's not even on the __5am__ start, which lasts for two hours –points at digital lecturer- you're going down, shweetheart! XD_

_As much as I have my doubts, and my worries about this course, the darlings around me are so supportive nn So…seeing as today was a particularly hard one, this chapter is also dedicated to D00mC00kie, but she will probably never read it seeing as she hates Duel Masters, and knows that my mind has been living in the gutter since I was fourteen… "Eh, you're such a grot, Plinkems! XD XD"_

_Hee__-! cookies to all This is all Phelan's fault. Yes. Blame him. _

**Chapter Eight**: Relate and separate

"Okay everybody! Tuck in!"

Breakfast at the Kirifudas was always an event. Everyone was over – well, everyone in a loose sense; Jamira couldn't be trusted with a plastic spork – and it was very, very fun. Fun because you could gorge yourself stupid and laugh and play and do all the things kids do. Shobu of course had the largest pile of nosh and was gleefully shovelling more onto his plate as Rakuda did his best to secure the last pancake.

He failed, of course.

"Awww, Shobu!"

"Come on, a growing duelist has gotta eat."

"Hnh, I'll say. Though I think it's more in width than height" Came the snort from Toru.

"You saying I'm fat?"

"I'm saying that if you got on a lift you'd set the weight alarm off."

Ignoring the normal banter of the family breakfast, Mimi watched with something akin to pleasure at the blissful normality of the scene. For her it was a joy in being able to completely relax with a couple of morons and watch the fall out of a couple litres of pure sugar can do to the brain.

So, as Saiyuki took a casual swing at Toru over another snide comment and got Rakuda into it as well she tried to ignore her Guardian senses tingling and noticed Shobu actually chewing his food – this meant he was deep in thought. Seems she wasn't the only one.

Mimi smiled fondly at the young duellist, and cautiously nudged his foot with her own. "Hey."

"Huh?" He looked up. Whether it was surprise that he'd had an idea or the fact a _girl_ was trying to get his attention, Mimi wasn't sure.

"You ok?"

"Just thinking."

"New strategies?"

"Nah, not really." He cupped a chin in his hand, giving her the biggest puppy dog stare she'd seen in awhile. "See…yesterday, Rakuda and I were going down to that new place we found…they have a lot of rare cards there I haven't seen before…and we saw Kokujo doing his usual tall, dark and ugly thing…but he seemed kinda upset."

"Maybe he found out there was someone cooler and eviller than him on the duelling circuit?"

"I don't think so." Shobu pushed his plate and away and looked up at Mimi. "It was like he was sad. He was muttering under his breath and all."

"I don't see why that should bother you, Shobu. It's what he does all the time. Probably trying out new evil things to say…or getting on with his singing career!" Both shared an amused shudder.

"Y'know, I'd like to think you were right. But, see…" He lowered his voice. "Mimi, I felt a disturbance."

She felt her heart jump. Oh, no. "KaiJudo?"

"Yeah." Mimi did her best not to seem concerned. "He was channelling some _bad_ stuff. I mean, he does anyway, but I got all cold and shivery, and it was just…weird. I don't normally feel that around him, it's always…he's an enemy sort of thing. Only not. Oh, you know what I mean."

Mimi smiled. "You're concerned for him?"

"Well…_yeah_. I tried to talk to him but he kept walking away. We lost sight of him and then we got hungry. Then we ate, and by then well, we didn't know where he was." Shobu shrugged. "Normally I wouldn't mind, being evil and broody is what he does best. It's just…this was different. The KaiJudo stuff worried me."

Mimi nodded.

And tried to ignore the smug look on Toru's face.

"You want to see him later?"

"Uhh, maybe." Shobu toyed with his fork. "I don't know. I don't want to stick my nose where it doesn't belong when it comes to tall, dark and ugly. He bites."

"So does Hakuoh."

Shobu glanced up. "Yeah. You're right! Toru said they're friends, maybe he'd know."

The girl shrugged. "I think it'd be better if we spoke to Kokujo first. I mean…if we can get around to chat with Kokujo without you challenging him to a duel, it'll be fine, we'll ask. If not, I don't want you whipping out your deck and challenging everyone in your path to get to Hakuoh for a cup of coffee and a chat."

Shobu wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You're no fun."

Mimi laughed and went back to her own plate of cereal. The strange look on Toru's face bothered her. It bothered her a lot.

oOo

People came and went.

Kokujo slipped outdoors, happy to be free of questionnaires and people asking too many things of him. A friend of his father's; a lawyer; had been very helpful in giving advice to the tiny family unit; and to his delight the night previously, they'd called his grandparents and a nice long chat had eased his broken heart.

In fact, he felt so good; he was on his way to see Hakuoh.

Perhaps it would have gone all right if Rakka hadn't found him first.

"Kyoushiro!" Spinning around with the great flare a nice leather coat can give you; he found himself face to face with the princess of geek. Rakka doubled over gasping for breath, then straightened and gave him a grin. "I missed you yesterday. I thought if it was ok; I'd maybe hang out with you or something. I want to meet those…uh, whatdidyacallems…morons."

A part of him cringed. There was a lot of pent up frustration he wanted to sweat out in Hakuoh's bed right now, and seeing this annoying little freak bothered him.

But what bothered him more was the odd squishy warm feeling that was also inside, and was patiently strangling the part called sexual tension. Had to be the look on her face; he'd never seen someone just stare at him like that. "Uhh, maybe. I was going to see a friend."

"And here was me thinking you _had_ no friends!" She said cheerily.

He lightly cuffed her shoulder, only realising what he'd done when she grabbed his arm and hugged it to her side with a grin. He gave up then – you can't fight good naturedness. Besides. Her boobs were soft. Smirking and pulling her along, he decided to wander – Hakuoh wouldn't mind if he was a little late.

"The friend thing is sorta personal. But I don't mind if you need to learn from my obvious superiority."

"Why, yes! I'm failing child-scaring 101 at school." Rakka cried with mock sorrow.

Kokujo laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"…How was the interview?" She continued, having to skip a little to keep up with him.

"I discovered my mother wants me because of some stuff up she made. Or something"

"They always want you for something. Clean your room…scrub the toilet…loans for botox…"

"Is that a guitar strapped to your back?"

"Maybe. Don't change the subject."

"Bah." He wrinkled his nose. He opened his mouth to say something and realised that for once his deck was quiet. It was only ever quiet around his father, or Hakuoh…Rakka too now? Was that possible?

"Kyou?"

"Eh?"

"You spaced out on me again." She was looking up at him with an expression extreme concern. How frustrating! "If you want, we can do this another time."

She let go then, slipping out of his fingers and for a moment clasping his hand with both of hers. It was almost a parody of when he'd first grabbed her, this time, she was the one grabbing him. Cocking his head to the side, Kokujo lightly caught her wrist with his other hand and held Rakka; lightly; not to make sure he didn't bruise her or anything, but just to see if she would pull away. When she didn't, the warm feeling intensified, and he smiled again.

"It's okay. Really it is. I'm going to the Temple…they won't really allow you in, even if you did come as my guest. Fritz is very…how would I put it…particular about these things." He sighed. "I have a close friend up there I talk things over with."

She looked upset.

Only for a moment.

"That bad, huh? Okay then." Now she let go, and Kokujo felt the urge to grab her back. "I won't detain you. Um, just know that you can tell me anything and all. I am supposed to be your girlfriend after all, and they share secrets and what have you. Presumably not to share."

"Exactly."

She raised an eyebrow.

Oh. Oh shit. Kokujo caught on, a moment too late as she put her hands on her hips. "…do you have someone in your life, Kyoushiro Kokujo?"

"I don't have to answer to you."

"You want that kiss or not?"

He glared. "Not." Clenching his fists, Kokujo narrowed his eyes. "I don't actually need you, you know."

Brushing past her, a small part of him deeply regretted it, but what was done was done. He wasn't going to be held hostage by some girl's trivial feelings, no matter how nice she made him feel; his secrets were his alone. That was all.

"Fine." She called out after him.

He paused, smirking. Good, put her in her place, that's the way to do it-

"…I just hope he's worth it, Kyoushiro."

Shit!

oOo

There is something to be said for the handy-dandy mobile-phone camera.

Toru was feeling particularly bad. He was ever so pleased that he'd been invited to the breakfast. Had he not been, there would have been some trouble with getting this…perhaps not so damning, but very suspect evidence. Tongue between his teeth he cycled through the shots and smirked with glee – they were not very flattering shots. The girl; Kokujo; the holding of hands…ooh, trouble in paradise!

So, midway through deleting those too blurry and those that were just not wrong enough, the phone actually _rang_ and Toru shrieked…well…like a girl.

Pressing the call button, he wondered who was calling.

He should have checked the ID.

"TORU YOU LITTLE HOMO! I SWEAR TO GOD WHEN I FIND YOU I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Another shriek. He almost dropped the 'phone, but managed to save it, just in time to shut his older sister off mid-rant. He hadn't asked to borrow it, and you would hardly expect Toru to own something that was coloured purple with a little Hello Kitty tag now, could you? Of course not.

But in that moment, he had made a stupid decision, and would pay for it later on. But this isn't about Toru-torture. No, he jammed that phone back into his pocket and started to run.

The idea was that he would show this to Hakuoh. Of course, he had never really been inside the Temple before; it never occurred to him to try just yet, seeing as he wasn't confident in his abilities. However, that being said, he was pretty sure he'd be able to get past Fritz. It was _finding_ the master of duelling that bothered him. He had to be in and out before someone caught him and sent him on his way.

So Toru ran.

Why was he doing this? I mean, for what reason did he want to sow discord between two people, and black someone's name? Well, apart from being thoroughly whipped by Kokujo, and the utter disrespect he had been shown on numerous occasions, Toru really didn't have a reason.

Toru didn't like him.

Through the streets he ran. Seeing as we never knew what streets they were exactly, people just turned up at the Temple doors, we could presume he just beamed himself up there, ala a certain sci-fi program…or he just took the bus. Either way, he made it there, and tried to feel confident as he approached the door.

As it turned out, he had arrived at precisely the time Fritz sat down to watch his favourite soap opera, so Toru found himself able to slip in without anyone noticing, and joining the throng of young and hopefuls who would undoubtedly fail when the next KaiJudo master in disguise came along. If Toru had done his homework, or if he was just extremely lucky isn't known. It is, as most authors call it, an Act of Plot.

Toru didn't bother to ask where Hakuoh was. Time was of the essence, and the boy knew that just mentioning the name would encourage a tirade of oaths and curses sent towards the pretty-boy duellist. It always did, and by the time he was able to slip away from the tight ring of pride and obnoxiousness, he would be too late.

He had to show Hakuoh these pictures. He had to make life hell for Kokujo – there was no rhyme or reason for it.

So, intelligently for once for an anime character in this kind of show, he looked for someone who was in the characteristic white uniform he'd seen on TV. And when he found someone, he took them aside.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me out."

"The toilets are too the left." The other boy said quietly.

"No, you don't understand. Uh, do you know this guy?" Holding up the phone, Toru noticed with a strange sense of satisfaction as the other boy trembled.

"Ugh. Yes. I know that guy." There was a gulp. "Mister Hakuoh likes his company for some reason. He's not a part of the temple though."

"Okay. Then hear this. I have a message from…uhh, Mister Kokujo. And he said I had to deliver it to Hakuoh in person, or he'd rip my guts out."

The boy stood there, unfazed. "Yeah right."

"Honestly."

"Why didn't he come himself?" Came the pouted reply. "That weirdo knows hundreds of ways to get in here, we can't keep him out."

Uh oh! Think fast! "Well, if you know him so well, you'd know he likes to show off."

Realisation of a sort dawned on the White Soldier. Nodding unhappily, he sighed. "Oh. I get it now. Geez, they get off on posturing, don't they?"

"You have no idea."

"Right this way."

So, through the corridors they went, quietly and quickly, each minute making Toru's stomach sink with the knowledge that Kokujo could be there right now. Urgh. Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh. No. But things looked up when they reached an ornate door, and his guide lightly rapped on it to see if Hakuoh was in.

He was.

Opening the door, Toru got a peek at some very nice surroundings, impressed by the heavily carved interior windows that gave the place so much light and warmth. Dressed casually for once, Hakuoh cocked his head to the side, and stared.

"…What can I help you with?"

"Um, messenger sir."

"Oh dear. Please, not another Shobu."

"You know Shobu?" Toru yelped, excitedly.

Hakuoh glared at the other boy. "…If I wasn't feeling so good right now, I'd hurt you."

"Yes sir!" Came the nervous squeak.

"But…wow!" Came fanboy-Toru.

"Please. Refrain from raising your voice, thank you very much. Everyone knows that little hell-raiser. What is it?"

Toru gulped, stood up, and faced directly ahead. "Private message for you, sir. From Kokujo."

This caught Hakuoh's attention. Nodding to the other boy to leave them be, he invited Toru in and bade him to sit down in one of the gothic chairs by a heavy table, just inside the door. Sitting on the plush seat made Toru smirk, only just able to hide his excitement.

Hakuoh sat down on the other, and gave Toru a stern, yet slightly worried look. "Private message?" He asked. "Why on earth wouldn't he deliver it himself?"

"He's, ah, caught up at the moment."

And then, gleefully, Toru showed Hakuoh the pictures. One by one. And out of order too. Toru was enough of a tech-head to understand his sister's tiny piece of mass-produced money drainer. Instead of being a meeting of two friends, and then leaving again, it showed them walking apart, Kokujo grabbing the girl, then holding her close. And then some of the short walk.

For a moment, Hakuoh looked rather upset. Then he raised an eyebrow and looked Toru square in the face. "What is this?"

"He's cheating on you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He. Is. Cheating. On. You. Would you _like_ me to draw a diagram?" Came the frustrated reply.

"May I see those images again?"

"Of course."

The phone was handed over. Fiddled with. Hakuoh then cycled through, nodding to himself, and looked up, partially surprised. "Okay, fair enough. Ah, nice phone by the way."

Toru went red. "It's my sister's."

"Uh-huh." Hakuoh smiled at him in an unnerving way. "Would you like me to get someone to show you out?"

Toru mumbled an affirmative and skulked away. That had not had the desired effect – yes, Hakuoh had been surprised, and better still, shown signs of _true_ upset! But then he looked again, nodding to himself, and was calm. What the heck?

It never occurred to Toru to look at the pictures again. To see them for what they were – saved by time and date. And how, after Hakuoh had had the 'phone, they were back in order.

oOo

They sat down together in a restaurant, two very different people, and two very different stories. Fresh from listening to his lawyer's advice, Keitaro ordered a coffee and watched Hitomi sit, perfectly poised.

He wasn't sure what to say.

She had been a major factor in his life, back when he…well, was Kyou's age. He had chased her, and chased her, never sure how to act around her gilded form. Nontheless, the shy goody-two-shoes had brought a lot of light and confidence into his own, shy, life. She had been warm, and sweet. She had been a pillar of strength to the group of friends he thought he had.

But, of course, one night had changed it all. One party. One mistake.

The mistake being, he had been with the wrong person.

Quickly, over that thought, he remembered his son, and felt a slight smile touch his lips. Mistake? Yeah. Sleeping with her. But Kyou' hadn't been asked to be born, and Hitomi didn't have to carry him to full term. Therefore, the kid was free of blame. This was between two adults.

'Sides. Kyou was a part of him. 'Nuff said.

"So." He began. "My people spoke with your people. You wanted a meeting. Here we are."

She ignored him. Continued to watch the street.

"…Hitomi?" He paused, wondering if it was okay calling her by her first name. For all his darkness, his own brooding, Keitaro didn't want to hurt anyone. "…I want to know why."

"For once in your life, be quiet."

That irked him. What was so important? "Hitomi. Please."

She glared at him then, and pouting she slunk back into her seat, batting those cold eyes of hers. "Fine. Geez…"

He slumped too, but for a different reason. "What's this all about, girl? I have been out of your hair for ages. I didn't ask for child support. I didn't ask your parents for money. I skipped town and took Kyou with me. Why now?"

"Why not?"

"That's a stupid answer."

"Keitaro, the boy is old enough to make a decision on his own."

"That's not what you were saying the other day."

She glared at him. "Fine." With great care she reached into her purse and pulled something out, something that made Keitaro gasp – a ring. An _engagement_ ring. She slipped it on her finger and looked up at him with a mixture of loathing and pity. "The editor of the magazine considering me is my fiancé. If he found out about our son before we married, it'd kill me…this is the first time a man has actually seen me as more than a trophy girlfriend."

"Hey…"

"Not you, Kei." For once, she looked…sorry. "In hindsight, we could have been good together…we were just too young."

"Yeah…well…you know what they say about love and money."

"Exactly. We're both still very young in this modern age. And…I don't want it to happen again, if you get my drift."

Oh _shit_. It clicked then, and he nodded, coldly.

"I have worked really hard to get where I am…we'd only just graduated high school…I was supposed to be doing university, get my degree in journalism…the year off almost killed me. But it gave me enough time to find and to offload my 'problem' onto you, and then heal enough to start again. I was scared, Kei. I didn't expect it. And I was so scared when I found out."

"You didn't tell me."

"You were in the biggest duelling competition this country had ever seen!"

Keitaro's face flushed and he looked away.

"Y'see? If my mother hadn't gone in there and grabbed you the day before it was all over, you'd have won and had enough money to set you and…Kyou' is it? Yeah…Kyou' up." Hitomi buried her face in her hands. "Mama didn't want me to get attached to him when he was born. Quite frankly, through all the drugs I had pumped into me, I couldn't much be bothered with it. But…I did see the end. Samara taped it for me."

"She did?" The buxom beauty made him smile again at the childhood memories.

"Yeah. Did you know she runs a shop now? Anyway, I saw you, and it all came flooding back, and then you lost…and I swear I thought you were going to die."

"Family curse, Hitomi." Keitaro muttered.

"…What? Oh, never mind." Hitomi waved a hand, dismissively as the waiter came and set the drinks on the table – a coffee and a mineral water. Both took their drinks. "Jiyoji loves me. I love him. But his family is another thing entirely, and if they find out for sure…"

Keitaro shook his head. "Then why were you so bloody abusive in front of Kyou'? Do you still have problems controlling that temper of yours? No, don't answer that. It's not the way you greet someone after fifteen years. Not the way you greet your son."

Her eyes flashed then, that murderous anger showing through. "That, coming from you?"

"You _abused_ me in front of your son. You said some terrible things that really hurt him. And hurt me."

"He'll get over it."

"Let me explain something to you, Hitomi. Children, teenagers, adults, _do not forget_." Keitaro shook under the strain of his words. "You should know that better than anyone with the way you acted the other day. I can understand your anger at me…but Kyoushiro didn't ask to be born. He is our…_my_…responsibility. Taking your anger out on the pair of us was a stupid and childish thing to do."

She snorted then, looking away again. "…That's what my lawyer said."

"Are you really going to take him away?"

"…Yes."

"What makes you think he'll go?"

"I'm his mother."

"Being tied by blood doesn't mean ownership. Mother is just a label for you, Hitomi. You have to earn a child's trust and respect." Keitaro watched her over the rim of his drink. "You have missed fifteen years of his life. Every time I have let him see you, he came back either crying, morose, or both."

"What?"

"The park for instance. Do you remember?"

She flushed.

"Yes, I thought you did. That was brazen. Really cold. Small children do stupid things. It's part of being a kid – you don't ridicule them. You don't, under any circumstances hurt them." Keitaro set the cup down and ran a hand through his hair. "I…was disgusted at your behaviour. I still am. But I acknowledge you wanting to see him, and have contact…but his safety comes first."

"Kei!" She snarled, glass trembling in hand.

"Calm down now. He's headstrong. He's…goddamn, he's like _me_. That's scary in itself, but for the love of God, please don't see me in him and take out your anger on someone who doesn't deserve it. If you really think you can just waltz in and take him away, be instant friends with him, you're going to have a hard time. He doesn't know you. You don't know him. You haven't been there for the bad, as well as the good. You can't just leave the responsibility with me, and then reap the rewards."

Hitomi just stared at him.

"Well?"

"…there is no contract." She said, coldly.

"No contract of what?"

"On him."

"He's not a piece of property."

"I have every legal right to see him and take him away if I see fit! You signed no legal papers to say he's yours, no adoption, no nothing, you have no right whatsoever to keep him!"

That was enough for Keitaro. He stood then, leaving the half finished coffee behind, and then shaking his head. Quietly he fished into his wallet to find some cash, and then put it down on the money for his part of the bill.

"You are _not_ walking away from me."

Keitaro did not answer.

"Keitaro – _Keitaro__ Kokujo_!" She cried, standing too. Now everyone turned, and stared at the flustered and expensively dressed woman standing there, chest heaving, and the slightly shabby man walking away from her. "Damn it! If…" Her eyes hardened. "If the courts find anything fundamentally wrong with him, you will be in for it! Anything and everything!"

Keitaro paused for a moment, as if to look back. Then he continued walking, not wanting to hear anymore. He knew what she was saying; and he knew he couldn't help in that matter. Kyou was Kyou. An evil, annoying little snot. A master of his game. A foul minded smartarse. Just like Keitaro could have been.

But that didn't matter.

The woman was clearly unstable. Trying to validate something. Instead of wiping it clean.

Stupid…stupid _cow_.

Jamming his hands in his pockets, he walked to his car, got in, and drove off. Things were not looking up.

to be continued.

_I wanted to try and salvage Hitomi's character, seeing as no one would really, honestly try and get their kid back for money. Then I remembered the world as it is today and wasn't so worried about it XD_


End file.
